Monster
by LilMissLibra
Summary: They all feared Russia and the harm he could do. How could they have known that it was his quiet little sister who was the one to be feared? Dark themes. OC Siberia. No pairings at the moment, but that could change.
1. Prologue

AN: Hello everyone! Welcome to my new story! I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, so I'm putting out this prologue to see what others think of it. Please leave reviews! Warning: lots of violence and gore in this.

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_**Siberia, late 1950s**_

Blood. Red, hot blood splattered everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, on my clothes, and even a bit on the ceiling. The sight, the smell of blood clouds my senses. It's what I live for. Screams of pain fill my ears in a beautiful symphony. I smile as I cut deeper, coaxing more and more blood out of my helpless victim strapped to the table in front of me. I chuckle as I think of the scars this will leave. I hear small whimpers coming from my victim, and I burst into giggles. All I see is red, red blood.

Words. I hear words. Chanting? I can barely register them with the bloodlust blocking out everything but the blood. But now I'm feeling something. For the first time in my life, I feel the blood as it splatters across my face. I lick my lips, and I taste its coppery flavor. I feel the blood in my eyes, so I swipe the back of my hand across my face. My vision clears, my mind clears, and I take in the horror before me.

For the first time in my life, I register the dark stone room I frequently occupy. I feel the blade in my hand as it drips blood down my arm. I look down at the man I've been torturing for the past few hours. I've completely torn his back up with my knife after whipping him and breaking many of his bones. Honestly, I'm surprised he is still alive at this point.

"This man's name is Lithuania. You did this to him."

"Who said that?" I ask quietly. I surprise myself, as that is probably the most I have ever spoken.

"I did." I turn around to see a blonde haired man with bright green eyes holding a big, black book. I silently wonder how I know any color other than red.

The man's words slowly start to sink in. I turn back to the man chained to the table. His brown hair and bloody back are all I can see. I think he has finally passed out. Or maybe he's…

"Oh, God," I say very quietly. "What have I done? How do I even…?"

"I've cast a spell on you," says the blonde man. "I've given you a soul, something you didn't have before. Everything you've done up to this point, you've done without any thought of your own. Now, you have a conscience, and you have the ability to make your own choices."

"But why?" I ask. I have no idea who this man is, or why he would help me. Is this helping me?

"Because this can't go on any longer." He gestures to the man on the table. _Lithuania._ I feel a heavy tug in my chest just for knowing his name. How long have I been torturing him? Years. There were others, too. I can't remember what they were like. I have a feeling I wasn't as horrible to them, but I don't know? I start breathing heavily. I feel my eyes widen as I gape at poor, broken Lithuania.

"Is—" I gasp, "is he…?" The blonde man steps over a puddle of blood to walk over to the table.

"No, he's still alive. Just barely." He looks me straight in the eyes. "I can heal him a little, but you'll have to finish tending to his wounds."

"I—" I stutter. I take a deep breath. "Yes, I will. But I don't think that will make up for this." I look at my feet. They are bare and caked in blood. My long, silvery hair falls in front of my face. I see that also is drenched in bright, red blood. Lithuania's blood.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up at the blonde man, and he gives me an uneasy smile that is probably meant to be reassuring. "It's not like you had a choice," he says quietly. "Why don't you go wash up a little while I heal him?" He gestures to a small sink in the corner of the dark room. I am surprised that I have not noticed it there before. Have I ever used it? My life up until just a moment ago is a blur of violence and bloodlust.

I shakily walk over to the sink, wincing whenever I step in a puddle on the floor. There is a small, dirty mirror above the sink. I flinch away from my blood-covered reflection. I wonder how the blonde man doesn't scream in terror at my appearance. I feel something drip down my face. Blood? I look in the mirror to see water flowing from my eyes. What is this? My eyes widen, and I gasp when I meet my reflection's eyes. I quickly turn on the water and scrub at my face. When I can see the pale skin on my hands, I finally venture a look in the mirror again. I am shocked as dark blue eyes meet mine. They hold so much depth while seeming flat and hard at the same time. As much of a blur my life may be, there is one thing I know for sure.

I had red eyes.


	2. In Which Russia Has A Hangover

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_**Russia, today**_

"Russia?" I asked quietly as I knocked on my older brother's bedroom door. The servants had come to me a few minutes before, claiming to be too afraid to try to wake him up. Honestly, I couldn't see what was so scary about him.

Hearing no response, I slowly opened it to reveal the still-sleeping man. "I'm surprised at you, Russia. You're usually up extra early on a World Meeting day. Aren't you excited to see all the other countries?" I walked over to his large windows and grabbed the heavy curtains covering them.

"Don't." I turned around to look at Russia glaring at me from under his covers.

"Why not?" I asked simply. He buried himself deeper under his thick comforter and mumbled something. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the bed.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," I said as I pulled the covers off him.

"Hung…over…" he groaned as he rolled over. I stared at him, shocked.

"What? Russia is hungover? I didn't think you could even get drunk!" I laughed, remembering the drinking contest from the night before between him, Prussia, and me.

"It's not funny," he growled at me. "I forgot to drink water before I went to sleep. Now I can't go to the meeting."

"But you've never missed a meeting. Are you sure you don't just need some Advil or something?"

"No, I don't want anyone to see me like this. You'll have to go in my place, Siberia."

"What?! I think you're just overreacting now!" I felt nervous. He couldn't be serious, could he? "I mean, I'm not Russia, you're Russia, and I barely leave the house, and I won't know anyone, and what am I even supposed to do?! And—"

"Hush, Siberia, you're part of Russia, too. Just go and take notes for me. That's all you need to do." Russia rolled over to look at me, his hand shielding what little light drifted into the room. "You can surely do that, can't you?"

I looked down at my feet. "How am I supposed to get there? I can't drive…" I felt ashamed. I couldn't do much, and I certainly didn't earn my keep.

"I'll call Belarus," Russia replied. I laughed bitterly to myself as he slowly grabbed his cellphone off his bedside table.

My older sister and I had a rocky relationship. She hated me for living in Russia's house. She didn't scare me, but I didn't like having her anger directed at me. I didn't really know what she wanted me to do about it. I am part of Russia, so obviously I have to live in his house.

"She'll pick you up in ten minutes," Russia said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Wait, ten minutes? How can I get ready that quickly, and what am I supposed to wear?" I rambled, getting nervous again.

"It's fine. You're fine," Russia groaned, grabbing the blankets back from me and pulling them back over his head. I quickly exited his room and closed the door as softly as I could before running to my room. I tore through the closet for the nicest clothes I had. I gave up when I realized my long, white coat looked the nicest and resolved to keep it on over my clothes. I turned to my vanity and grabbed a brush. I quickly ran the brush through my long, silvery blonde hair. I sighed as my dull blue eyes met my reflection's. Hopefully there would be no incident at the meeting.

I dropped the brush back onto the vanity when I heard Belarus's car horn. I grabbed a scarf and ran out the door.

Belarus rolled her eyes when I slid into the front seat. "So why couldn't Big Brother come to the meeting?" she asked angrily.

"He has a…hangover," I replied, smirking. Russia with a hangover, that's just great. Well, probably not for anyone else who would have to deal with him, but I find it funny. "So where exactly are we going?" I asked, feeling nervous yet again.

"Berlin," Belarus answered curtly. "But first we're picking up Ukraine."

"Oh, okay…"

"I don't know why Big Brother trusts you to take his place," Belarus said bitterly after a few minutes of silence.

"I don't either," I admitted quietly. "I've barely even left his house since…ever."

"I wonder what all the other nations would think," she continued with an evil smile on her face, "if they knew you were the scary one, and not Russia." I swallowed hard. She looked sideways at me before laughing. "Don't worry, it's none of my business anyway. You should relax. You know, your friend, Lithuania will be there."

"That does it," I said, hitting my head against the window, "take me back. I'm not doing this."

"Don't be a baby," she said. "Russia said you're going, so you're going. Then you can retreat back to your dark dungeon like always."

"I don't live in a dungeon," I protested weakly. "I just don't like to be around people."

"Whatever, we're at Ukraine's house."

After picking up Ukraine, the rest of the drive to Berlin was silent. After we parked outside the hotel the meeting would be held in, I turned around to look at Ukraine. "Do you think I could pass as a girl version of Russia? Maybe I could say a curse went wrong?"

"Uh, no?" Ukraine answered, blinking at me. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Just ignore her," Belarus said, opening her door and getting out of the car. I took a deep breath before following suit.


	3. In Which Siberia Meets a Dane

AN: Hello again! Thank you for reading my story! I would especially like to thank VampireRayne and RinkishiMekito for following the story :) This chapter is a bit longer than the others, so I hope you'll enjoy. _Italics_ are flashbacks. There are random thoughts throughout the chapter, but I won't italicize them. I just didn't want to mess with the flow of things, I guess...But if that throws you off at all, please tell me, and I'll change it! As always, please review!

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I followed Belarus and Ukraine into the meeting room. Of course, it seemed we were the last to arrive, so everyone was already sitting down. There were three open seats in the far corner of the room. I turned to make my way over when I heard a loud voice ask "Who are you?"

I paused and looked at the blonde haired man with blue eyes and glasses standing in the front of the room. I looked down at my feet shyly, my face burning as I felt all eyes in the room on me.

"S-sorry," I said quietly. "My name is Siberia. I'm here to take notes for my brother Russia, who isn't feeling w-well…"

"Russia's sick?!" yelled the blonde man. "Dude, that's so totally not cool! Does he have a cold?! Oh, man if he has a cold, we're all screwed!"

"Ah, n-no, he doesn't have a cold…" I replied to the floor, feeling a bit irked. What a noisy man. He stopped yelling.

"He doesn't have a cold?" he asked.

"No, he has a…hang…over…"

The room sat in silence for a moment, as if everyone had to register the information.

"Oh my god that's great! Russia has a hangover! I didn't know he was such a pansy!" the blonde man laughed loudly. I took that as my cue to go sit between Belarus and Ukraine. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself as I sat down. Loud people annoy me.

"Wait! So are you a country or something?" the man asked me again.

"Uh, no, I'm just the Asian part of Russia." My face heated up as everyone looked at me again.

"But you don't look Asian at all!"

"America, you twit, will you just shut up and start the meeting already!" yelled another blonde man who stood up. Wait a minute, I know that voice…

_"Wait, you can't leave yet!"_

_ "I'm afraid I've done all I can for him. You'll have to take it from here."_

_ "But I don't even know your name yet."_

_ "I'm the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but you can call me England."_

His green, knowing eyes met mine as he sat back down, and the other man, America, began the meeting.

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After a few hours, we took a lunch break. I followed my sisters out the door. "Hey, Siberia!" I heard behind me. I stopped and turned around to see…

"Prussia!" He smiled as he caught up to me then ruffled my hair.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked. "I didn't think you ever left your brother's house."

"I don't," I replied, looking down shyly. "But Russia has a…a hangover." Prussia stared at me before bursting out in laughter.

"Kesesese, that's great! Who'd have thought the Awesome Me would lose to him in a drinking contest but win in a no-hangover contest!" I laughed lightly with him, looking for Ukraine and Belarus. Looks like they left me behind. "Then again," Prussia continued, "you almost beat Russia in that contest last night, didn't you?"

"I think it was a tie," I replied.

"Did I hear someone mention drinking?" A tall man with spiky, blonde hair and a big, goofy grin walked up to us.

"Denmark! Long time no see!" Prussia greeted him cheerfully, slapping him on the back. "I was just saying how Siberia here can put away as much vodka as Russia."

"What? No way!" Denmark exclaimed. "But Russia's so big, and you're so little!" I blushed and stared at my feet.

"I guess it runs in our blood," I said quietly.

"So what's it like being Russia's sister? Is he as scary as everyone says?" Denmark asked, laughing. My heart sank.

"Uh, well…" I was interrupted by a loud grumble from my stomach.

"Kesesese, how about I take you out for lunch, Siberia?" Prussia suggested. "It looks like you lost your ride anyway."

"Um, okay, thanks."

"Hey, can I come, too? I think my family left me behind as well," Denmark asked, grinning widely. I wondered how he could be so cheerful about that.

"Sure!" Prussia said. "The more the merrier!"

* * *

Prussia and Denmark spent the first ten minutes of lunch arguing over which country's beer was better.

"You always come to Germany to drink," Prussia said. "Obviously you like our beer better."

"No, your beer is just cheaper," Denmark retorted. "That doesn't mean it's better."

I smiled into my mug. I knew and liked Prussia, because he came to Russia's house sometimes to chat. Denmark seemed really goofy and happy, and that made me smile.

"Why don't we ask Siberia?" Denmark suggested. "Which is better: German or Danish beer?" The question caught me off guard. I didn't really drink beer much, and if I did, it was Russian beer.

"I haven't had Danish beer before, and this is my first time trying German," I replied quietly, blushing a little.

"Really?" Denmark asked. "You should come to my house sometime to try it, then. It's not too far from here." He grinned at me.

"Um, yeah, okay," I mumbled.

"It's hard to believe you're Russia's little sister," he laughed. "You're so shy and innocent." I blushed harder.

"Kesesese, she had been a shut-in for a while when I first met her," Prussia added. I squirmed in my chair a little. I still was a shut-in.

_"Prussia, I don't think she'll want to talk to you," I hear outside my door. "She won't talk to anyone, and I'm the only one she'll let in her room."_

_ "Nonsense, everyone wants to talk to the Awesome Me," slurs a voice I didn't recognize._

_ Go away. Go away. Don't come any closer. Please just go away. I look up from my crouching spot when I hear the doorknob turn._

_ The door opens slowly, and an unfamiliar face peeks in. Bright red eyes look me over before the owner steps casually into the room._

_ Goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaw ay. I can't control it. I'll kill you. Go. Away. I hug my knees tightly to my chest._

_ "Why would you lock yourself up in here?" the man asks, kneeling next to me._

_ "Go away," I say very softly. I am shaking with effort. I can't control it for much longer._

_ "Why should I go away?"_

_ "I've done…bad things…"_

_ "We've all done bad things."_

_ "I can't…control it…"_

_ "What can't you control?"_

_ "I am a…monster…"_

"Well, we should probably head back," Denmark said, interrupting my thoughts. I shook off the memories and followed them back to the car.

"Back to another two hours sitting between my lovely sisters…" I mumbled bitterly.

"If you want, you can sit with me and my family," Denmark said cheerily.

"Okay, thank you," I replied to my feet. He stopped in front of me so suddenly that I ran into him. I looked up to see him looking back down at me seriously.

"On one condition," he said, sticking one finger up in front of my face.

"What?" I asked quietly. He grinned broadly again.

"You have to smile!"

"Oh, um, okay," I said as I got into the passenger seat of Prussia's car.

"No, I'm serious, you should smile!" he said as he got into the back seat. "Try it!" I let a small smile slip onto my face before blushing furiously. "So you can do it! I thought so!" I felt myself sink into the seat and looked out the window. I knew that Prussia was…well, out there, but Denmark was practically the complete opposite of my siblings. I didn't know if I had ever seen someone smile that much in my entire life. It was nice, but also a bit overwhelming. "Hey," he said, leaning forward between the front seats. I looked up at him, and he smiled warmly. "You have a pretty smile."


	4. In Which Things Get Awkward

"There they are!" said Denmark happily when we entered the meeting room. I followed him to a group of pale, blonde men sitting across the table from the entrance. A few other countries were already seated, but few had begun to filter back in from the lunch break yet. Denmark took the empty seat next to a man with empty blue eyes and a cross hairclip keeping part of his bangs pinned back. I sat down next to him, and Prussia sat to my left. "Uh, Prussia, are you sure you can sit there?" Denmark asked.

"Of course, the Awesome Me can sit wherever I want!" Prussia declared. "I'll just take that loser Canada's seat. It's not like anyone will notice he's gone anyway!"

"Who?" Denmark asked. "Anyway, Siberia, this is my family! This here is Norge!" He slung his arm around the man next to him. "He's been my best friend ever since we were little!" The man threw Denmark's arm off him.

"Brother, you're annoying," he said with a blank face. He looked me over with his expressionless eyes. "You can call me Norway," he said.

"Norge, you're so cold to me," Denmark whined before turning back to me. "That jerk on the other side of Nor is Sweden."

"N'ce t' meetcha," Sweden grunted at me. He had short, messy blonde hair and a cold, disconcerting stare behind glasses.

"That's Finland next to him," Denmark continued, nodding to a cheerful man with smooth, blonde hair and soft indigo eyes.

"Hello," he said, smiling.

"And that's Iceland down there. He's Norway's little brother." A grumpy looking teenager with silvery-white hair and violet eyes nodded at me. "Iceland is probably about your age," Denmark mused. When I thought about it, he was probably right. Physically, we looked about the same age. However, Iceland had probably been around for several hundred years, while I could barely remember the last century…

"So anyway, Siberia, why don't you come to my house after the meeting?" Denmark asked. "I can introduce you to good beer and show you around my house. Have you ever been to the beach?"

"Um, no? I don't think so…" I said, trying to think of what a beach was. It didn't sound like anything we had in Russia, but then again, I didn't get out much.

"A beach is the land along the coast," Prussia said to me quietly. "It usually is made of sand. You've probably never been to one, since the water would be so cold in Russia."

"Oh, thanks." I blushed, feeling very ignorant. I read a lot, since I didn't have anything better to do, but I was still pretty naïve.

"Well, it's settled then!" Denmark said happily. "You're coming to my house today!" He turned to his family. "You guys are coming too, right? Oh, we can have a big sleepover! I have plenty of rooms." His grin grew as he turned back to me. "Then Finny can probably drive you back to Russia's house tomorrow. He doesn't live too far from there."

"Sure!" Finland said happily.

"Awesome! This will be great!" Denmark exclaimed. I felt overwhelmed again as he rambled about all the things we would do at his house.

"Stupid Dane," Norway said, smacking Denmark on the head. "She never agreed." His eyes met mine, making me feel very vulnerable. It was like he could see into my soul and read my mind. "You don't have to agree," he said to me. "He's an idiot who likes to drag others into his dumb schemes."

I looked down at the table, about to answer him when I heard someone walk over to us. A tall, imposing man with slicked back, blonde hair and blue eyes put his hand on Prussia's shoulder. I remembered his name was Germany, the country who was hosting the meeting.

"Shouldn't you be in your own spot?" Germany asked Prussia. "At the Phony Nation Table?"

"Aww, you caught the Awesome Me, West," Prussia whined. I snorted, and they all looked at me. I blushed even as I broke into giggles. I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back my laughter. This was so embarrassing.

"The…Phony…Nation…Table?" I laughed, gasping for breath. I soon became aware that all the other nations were seating already, and half of them were staring at me. I quickly turned my gaze into my lap, giggles ending abruptly.

"Come on, Prussia," Germany said, hauling Prussia out of his seat. "You're taking someone else's seat."

As Germany led Prussia out of the door, someone else took his seat next to me. I looked up to see who it was and immediately regretted leaving the house as I suppressed as gasp.

"Li-lithuania?" He smiled at me nervously. _Blood._

"Hi, Siberia," he greeted me politely. _Blood, red blood._ No, fight it. I looked back into my lap and took a deep breath.

"This is…pretty awkward, don't you think?" I said to him quietly, trying to smile.

"Well, um, I can switch seats with someone, if you'd like," he replied just as quietly. _Blood. Blood everywhere. _No, no, calm down. My fists clenched in my lap.

"So, Siberia," Denmark interjected happily. "You still haven't answered me. Are you gonna come over tonight?"

"Um, I don't think that's such a—"

"I think you should," Lithuania said. I looked back at him, and he smiled genuinely at me. "I think it would be good for you."

"I don't know…I have to take these notes back to Russia, and he's not in a good mood anyway…"

"I'll do it."

"What?"

"I'll take the notes back to Russia. I have some business I've been meaning to discuss with him anyway."

"Um, okay, thank you."

"So it's settled then!" Denmark said happily.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling at him.

* * *

The first half of the meeting had been updates on current affairs. It was vaguely interesting to me, but since I didn't know the background or context for most of the news, I didn't understand any of it. The second half of the meeting was supposed to be discussing issues brought up by different nations. However, it had broken down into several groups arguing with each other. I was very annoyed that they were wasting everyone's time, but I tried to keep my temper in check. Taking deep breaths, I allowed my mind to wander. I looked around the room, trying to remember each country's name. I found I could only remember the countries I already knew or had met.

Once again, I felt very uncomfortable sitting next to Lithuania. He and I had a very…complicated relationship. We had tried to be friendly with each other, but the past just made it too…well, there was no word to describe other than awkward. Besides that, he had unfortunately gotten in the way of my…temper more than a few times. I always tried to stay away from him, for both our sakes. _Blood, sweat, tears. Cries of pain, tearing of skin. _Oh, no.

I took more deep breaths and focused instead on Denmark. He was trying to get Norway's attention, and Norway was trying to get Iceland's attention. Sweden was staring down at Finland, and Finland was awkwardly caught in the middle of everything. The ensuing Nordic chaos only served to annoy me more. I tried to think about other things, but I couldn't get all the shouting in the room out of my head.

I thought about my brother, Russia. He was always so quiet, so calm, and for some reason he really enjoyed coming to these meetings. He always said how happy it made him to see everyone come together to solve the world's problems. "And," he would add, "I like to think of how they'll look when I rule over all of them. After you break them, of course…"

_Blood. All of those nations, broken, bleeding. Me, standing in the midst of their bodies, drenched in their dark red blood. _No. No. No, no, no. Not here. No, fight it. My vision went red, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My fists clenched again. My nails dug into my palms, and I began to shake with the effort to keep myself under control. _Screams of pain caused by me. This is what I was born for. Born in blood._

"Siberia?" called a voice next to me. Lithuania. "Are you okay?" _His blood spills first._ I held my breath and counted backwards from ten. He should know by now to leave me alone when this happens. _I'll teach him a lesson he won't forget._ I opened my eyes and stared into my lap, seeing only vague shapes in the ocean of red. A shape from my right was slowly moving towards my shoulder. A hand? Lithuania's hand. Leave me alone. Please. _I'll cut that hand off. I'll throw you across the room. I'll carve you up in front of everyone. _The hand lightly touched my shoulder. _Time to die._

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AN: I'm so sorry for this awful cliffhanger, but I didn't want this chapter getting too long. Also, sorry if Sweden's accent was too much. Anyway, please leave a review, it will motivate me to get the next chapter up sooner!

Also, I do not own the Phony Nation Table. That is property of Silly Little APH Headcanons on Tumblr!


	5. In Which England Is Helpful

I brought a hand to my mouth and faked a cough. Lithuania's hand pulled away from my shoulder in surprise. I faked another cough then another. I quickly stood up and left the room, still coughing into my hand. Once in the hallway, I stumbled around looking for the bathroom in the sea of red. I practically fell into what looked like the women's bathroom. Luckily it was empty.

I grabbed onto the first sink and looked into the mirror. Blood red eyes looked back at me, and I felt at home in their feral bloodlust. I went to turn the faucet on, only to be hit in the face with cold water. Confused, I looked down at my hand. I had accidentally pulled the knob off the sink. I looked back up into the mirror as I felt the bloodlust fade away. As my vision went back to normal, my eyes faded back to a dull blue. My stomach churned violently, and I barely made it to the toilet before my lunch came back up.

I sat on the cold tile and tried not to hyperventilate. I almost did something really bad to Lithuania. Again. My heart pounded in my chest, and tears pricked at my eyes. Why did this always happen to me? Why couldn't I just stay in control? Or better yet, why couldn't everyone just leave me the hell alone? That would be safest for the world. I was a menace, a monster. My sole purpose in life was to cause others pain.

The door to the bathroom opened, but I didn't notice until the person kneeled next to me. Recognition rang in my mind for the second time that day when bright green eyes met mine.

"England," I said quietly.

"Ah, so you do remember me," England replied. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright at all," I moaned. "I almost hurt him really badly. Again. Hell, I almost hurt everyone in there." I put my head in my hands as tears rolled down my face. "I should just lock myself up somewhere where it won't matter if it comes out."

"If what comes out?" he asked gently.

"The monster," I sobbed. "The real me."

"Hey, look at me," he said quietly. I looked up at him, feeling ashamed and pathetic. "I didn't give you a soul so that you could lock yourself up in some dungeon. I did it, so you could live your own life and make your own choices."

"But you said 'This has to end.'"

"If Lithuania had asked me to eliminate you when he came to me for help, I would have. I was actually surprised at his request to help you."

"Wait, Lithuania asked you to help me?"

"Yes, and when I realized what you were, I was only too happy to help. It still disgusts me to think of what they did to you." England ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway, let's get you cleaned up. People will start to miss you."

"Yeah, right," I said dully as he helped me stand up and led me to the sink.

"Bloody hell, what happened here?" I remembered the damage I had done to the sink and realized I still had the knob in my hand. I held it out to him silently. "Ah, no matter." He took it from me and replaced it on the spraying sink. A bright green light flashed from his hand, and the sink was fixed. I stared at him, and he scoffed at my surprised expression. "What, I can make you a soul, but I can't fix a sink?"

I grabbed some paper towels and wiped my face, coat, and hair. I swished some more water to get the taste of puke out of my mouth.

"Is this how it always happens?" England asked. I shook my head.

"Only if I try to hold it back. Otherwise, I go on a rampage until either my rage or energy runs out."

"You know, the more you practice suppressing it, the easier it will get. Getting out like this is good for you."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, but how can it be good if I hurt someone? The tiniest things can set me off, and I can't always restrain myself."

"Well, I think you did a damn good job just now. Your first time being around this many people, and you only managed to hurt a sink. Don't worry, I think it will get over it. Sinks are surprisingly forgiving." I laughed. I realized that I felt strangely comfortable around England. Perhaps it was because he knew all about my…problem. Also, I hadn't hurt him like I had hurt Lithuania, so there wasn't all the guilt and awkwardness.

I looked at my reflection and winced. My hair hung around my face in stringy tangles, and my eyes looked even more dead against my sickly pale skin. I sighed and raked my fingers through my hair, trying to make it look halfway decent again. When I deemed it acceptable, I turned to England.

"Thank you for coming to check on me," I said.

"Yeah, well, next time go to the women's restroom. It'll make it a lot easier to find you," he laughed.

"I'm in the men's room?"

"Yes, you are." I blushed and turned to leave. "Wait a moment, Siberia." I turned back to him.

"Yes?" England pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to me.

"Here's my number. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

"Thank you," I said, exiting the bathroom.

I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible when I reentered the meeting room. Since most of the arguments were still going, I pretty much succeeded. I took my seat next to Denmark again, and he grinned down at me.

"What happened? Did you lose a fight with the drinking fountain?" he asked.

"Something like that," I replied, smiling.

"Hey, there's that smile again!"

"Um, Siberia?" I turned to look at Lithuania. He smiled nervously at me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled at him.

"Good, I'm glad."

* * *

The rest of the meeting passed without any incidences. Well, at least, no incidences from me. Unfortunately for his blood pressure, Germany was never able to get everyone back under control. Eventually, he told those of us who weren't fighting to just leave.

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Denmark said, standing up immediately. "So we're all going back to my house, right?" he asked the other Nordics. Finland smiled and nodded, while the rest groaned reluctantly. Denmark either didn't notice this or just ignored it. "Great! Come on, Siberia, you can ride with me!"

"You have your own car?" I asked as I followed him out of the meeting room.

"Of course I do! Norge would never give me a ride, I wouldn't dream of asking Sweden, and Finland doesn't come past my house."

"What about Iceland?"

"He usually rides with Norway."

"So, um, why did you come with Prussia and I to lunch if you had your own car?"

"Oh that's simple." He smiled down at me as he unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for me. "You seemed like someone I wanted to know. Turns out I was right!" I blushed brightly as I got into the car.

"Um, thanks," I mumbled.

"So how do you know Prussia?" Denmark asked after he got in.

"He comes to Russia's house from time to time to drink."

"And you join in?"

"Sometimes, if Prussia can convince Russia to let me come with them."

"Wow," Denmark laughed. "I never pegged Russia for the over-protective brother type."

"Yeah, he's very…surprising."

* * *

AN: I'm sorry for the terrible ending here! I couldn't figure out how to end this one! But it's okay, because there will be drunken Nordics coming up in the next chapter! As always, please leave reviews, so I'll be more motivated to update :)


	6. In Which Drunk Nordics Are Drunk

AN: Oh my gosh, this chapter is ridiculously long! At least, comparatively. But you will finally understand a few things! If you have any questions, please let me know, and I will try to clarify. This might get a little confusing. Anyway, please review and enjoy!

* * *

_**Later that night...**_

I had to hand it to the Nordics; they sure could hold their liquor. We'd gone through several bottles of aquavit and vodka before it started to have any effect on them. But when it did, things got kind of wacky. Iceland sat at the bar with his head on the counter. "Why don't I have any tourists?" he whined. "I get so cold. And I have so many volcanos. Why do I have _so many volcanos?_"

"It's okay, Icey!" Norway slurred. "You're still my favorite~!" He hugged onto Iceland, who didn't seem to notice. "You're the best brother everrr~!" Iceland continued to complain about ash and lava.

"Um, is he okay?" I asked Denmark, who wasn't any different drunk.

"Oh, yeah, he's fine!" Denmark laughed. "You should have seen him when his economy went down. I don't know if I've ever seen him that drunk."

"His economy?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand through his hair. "It was a few years ago. A lot of us had money invested in his banks, and one day they just crashed. It was a big shock to all of us, but I think he was the most surprised. When he wasn't too feverish to get out of bed, he was drinking. England and Netherlands tried to help him out, but they wanted him to repay them right away. Actually, I think your brother helped him out a lot. Didn't he ever mention giving money to Iceland?"

I thought for a minute. Since nothing really happened in my life, the years kind of blended together. However, maybe there was something I remembered from a few years ago…

_"Siberia, good news! You might be getting a new brother soon! He kind of looks like me, but he's a lot smaller and weaker. He won't be hard to subdue at all…"_

My head started to throb, and my vision went blurry. I took a deep breath before knocking back the shot of vodka I had. The rage passed, numbed by the liquor.

"Nope, Russia must not have mentioned it to me," I lied smoothly.

"Huh, that's weird." Denmark's face lit up like he suddenly had an idea. "Excuse me, I don't know when I'll see Norge this cuddly again." With a sly smile on his face, he went to pry Norway off Iceland.

Meanwhile at the other end of the bar, Sweden and Finland seemed to switch personalities. Sweden was smiling as he mumbled happily to Finland, who was brooding silently. Every once in a while, Finland would make a terrifying face at Sweden, and Sweden would, understandably, recoil in fear.

I stood on the far side of Denmark's living room, observing all five of them in amusement. Even though I had drank as much if not more alcohol than them, I barely felt its effects. Well, that's not true. I felt more relaxed than I had all day. Relaxed and calm. It was a good feeling. I knew from experience that alcohol tamed the…monster inside me. I had never lost control while drinking, as opposed to everyone else I've seen drunk. Another benefit was that almost all the bad thoughts and memories went away when I drank as well.

I chuckled to myself as I watched Denmark throw Norway over his shoulder and walk away from the bar.

"Noooo!" Norway whined, squirming. "I was talking to Icelaaaand! My _lilbror_ needs meee!" Denmark tripped over his feet, and the two fell onto the couch. They looked at each other before laughing heartily. Norway's hair fell into his eyes, and I realized the cross pin he had been wearing earlier was missing.

I jumped when indigo eyes peered at me from behind the couch, but they were gone just as quickly as they had appeared. Finland quickly darted out from behind the couch, holding Norway's pin in both hands like it was stolen treasure. Sweden stared at him in shock, and Iceland passed out on the counter. Suddenly, Sweden sprung off his stool and snatched up Finland, causing him to drop the hairpin. He carried him out of the living room towards the bedrooms.

I stood there for a minute, taking in what had just happened and what the current situation was. Finland and Sweden were probably not coming back. Iceland was definitely out for the night. On the couch, Norway was also fast asleep cuddled up to Denmark, who was smirking slyly.

"You should take a picture for me," he whispered to me.

"I don't think he would like that," I said. Norway already unnerved me; I didn't need him mad at me.

"Oh, come on, when is this ever going to happen again?" I smiled and shook my head. He sighed. "I guess it's probably bedtime, isn't it? I should get these guys in their beds."

He stood up with Norway in his arms. I walked over to the bar, set my shot glass down, and pulled Iceland down from his stool. I awkwardly slung him over my shoulder and turned to Denmark. "Where is his room?" Denmark stared at me in shock before chuckling softly.

"I guess you are Russia's little sister," he said. He pointed me to Iceland's room, and I hobbled down the hallway. He wasn't too heavy for me, but drunken people are always awkward to carry. I pushed his door open and laid him down on the bed. I stood there wondering if I should do anything else, since I didn't know him that well. I decided to pull his boots off for him and set them on the floor. Then I left the room and quietly shut the door. I walked back down the hallway into the living room. I picked Norway's hairpin off the floor and set it on the bar. I walked around the room collecting up the shot glasses and stacked them on the bar.

"You don't have to clean up," Denmark said behind me, making me jump a little. "It's my house after all. I can clean up."

"No, it's okay," I said, looking at my feet. "I'm not very tired anyway."

"You're not?" he asked incredulously. "Wasn't today kind of a big day for you? You should be exhausted." In all honestly, I should have been. But there were things I wanted to think about. Things that would only keep me up anyways. "You look like you have a lot on your mind," Denmark said softly. "I'll tell you what: we can both clean, and you can tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong," I said, continuing to stack dishes on the bar.

"Well, let's start with what happened at the meeting today."

"Wh-what?" I looked up at Denmark, and he stared me in the eye.

"It was a good show, but I've seen Iceland try to fake an illness too many times to be fooled by phony coughs." I blushed deeply and looked at my feet.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you…"

"You'd be surprised. Does it have something to do with why Norge is so wary of you? Or why Lithuania was so concerned for you?"

"U-um." I silently continued to clean up. Denmark grabbed the dishes out of my hands.

"If you're not gonna tell me, you don't get to clean my house," he said sternly. "Wow, I never thought I'd say that to someone." I frowned and snatched the dishes back.

"Fine," I said then sighed. "I've done…really bad things in my life."

"Well, we all have. We're countries who have to follow our bosses' orders."

"No, I'm the worst." I felt tears form in my eyes. A single, fat tear broke free and rolled down my face. "Everyone's so afraid of Russia, but there's a reason no one wants to be sent to S-siberia…"

"Why is that?" Denmark asked gently, kneeling next to me.

"I was a w-weapon for the Soviet Union. I had to…to punish people who went against the Union. I did terrible things to the other Soviet countries. I…I tortured them."

"You were just following orders, weren't you?" Denmark asked very quietly.

"Well, yeah, but I…I enjoyed it. I can't remember much from that time, but I know I enjoyed it." I had enjoyed the panicked screams I could hear all the down in my…work room when someone realized they were coming to me for "reeducation." I had enjoyed the look on their faces when I would smile and say "Welcome, comrade." I had enjoyed the sound of tearing flesh. And the blood. Oh, how I had enjoyed the blood. The sight, the smell, the taste. It was my one drive, the bloodlust kept me going.

I took a deep breath and fought back the tears. As nice as he was, I had only just met Denmark that day. I did not want to cry in front of him.

"You know," he said, interrupting my thoughts, "everyone used to live here permanently. All of the Nordics, I mean. That's why my house has so many bedrooms. But I guess my rule wasn't good enough for them, because Sweden began to rebel. I couldn't figure out why he would want to leave. I mean, we fought with each other all the time, but we had been together so long. I was worried he would give the others ideas, so I tried my best to snuff the rebellion out of him. I did such terrible things to him, it's no wonder he left." Denmark paused to chuckle, but not in a happy way. "It's no wonder they all ended up leaving me." He looked me in the eye. "I know what it's like to have a bloodlust you can't control. I don't think I fully realized what I had done until I saw what Germany was doing when he occupied my house during WWII. The first chance I got, I apologized to Sweden for everything I did. He told me that it was okay. That we're countries, and sometimes we get carried away by war and rage."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. There was nothing else to me but rage. I didn't realize there was anything more to life until England came along."

"England? You know Eyebrows?"

"Yeah, he cast a spell on me one day. He said it gave me a "soul," whatever that means. After that, I was able to realize what I had done and make the conscious decision to never hurt anyone again."

"Why did Eyebrows give you a soul?"

"He said that Lithuania asked him to. I don't understand that either, because Lithuania is the one I hurt the most."

"So you didn't realize what you were doing before this?" I shook my head again. "Then why do you feel so bad still?"

"Well, as you saw today, I can't always keep my…real self under control. If I get mad at all, the bloodlust comes right back, and I can hurt people. I _have_ hurt people. Lithuania has tried to help me a few times when I lose control, and I always end up hurting him badly."

"Is he the only one that's happened to?"

"No, I've hurt the other Baltics sometimes. Sometimes Russia has been in the way, but he's strong enough to take me on."

"What about your sisters?"

"No, I don't see them much. When I realized that I still wasn't under control, I locked myself in my room. I would barely even let Russia in to see me, and that was only when I absolutely had to eat."

"And then Prussia met you."

"Yeah, he had been over to drink with Russia. When he mentioned his littlest sister who had been locked in her room for almost fifty years, he decided to investigate."

"How did he get you to come out?"

"_Hey, you look like you could use a drink," he says, smiling at me. "I would suggest a good German beer, but all your brother keeps in the house is this Russian vodka shit."_

"He gave me alcohol," I answered finally, smiling slightly at the memory. "Back then, it was the only thing that could keep me under control, at least when I was around people. If I drink a lot, nothing can set me off."

"Is that why you're not drunk right now?" Denmark asked, smirking.

"Yeah, what's your excuse?"

"I don't think I'm ever sober!" he laughed. I rolled my eyes, making a mental note to never ride with him again. "So now you can be around people without…snapping?"

"Well, I'm mostly fine around people I know, as long as I don't get angry. But being around strangers, especially a lot of them, makes me really uncomfortable. Then I get angry easier."

"Did you get angry today, because everyone was arguing?"

"Yeah, that's basically the reason. England told me that the more I get out like today, the easier it will be for me to stay in control."

"That makes sense. Like you already worked up the control to be around people you know; now you have to do it for people you don't know."

"I guess."

"Okay, one more question."

"What's that?"

"How many times have you apologized to Lithuania?" I looked at him in shock.

"How did you…?" He gave me a knowing look. I sighed. "I lost count."

"And how many times has he said he forgives you?"

"That's more than one question." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Um, every time."

"So maybe you should stop blaming yourself." I didn't answer, taking the dishes over to the kitchen and setting them in the sink. I turned on the water and started washing them. After a few minutes, Denmark walked over to me, a trash bag in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. He held the paper out to me. "If you ever need anything," he said. "Don't hesitate to call me." I wiped my hands dry and took the paper from him. It had his name and phone number on it.

"You're the second person to tell me that today," I said smiling. "Thank you." It felt good to tell get everything off my shoulders.

"Don't mention it," he replied, smiling widely.


	7. In Which Siberia and Finland Bond

AN: Okay! We're six chapters in, so it's time for some gratitude! A big thank you to VampireRayne, RinkishiMekito, Moonstar66, UltraMagnusFanGirl, and timey-wimey detector for following this story! And a HUGE thank you for the anonymous reviews! Now, I'm gonna be greedy and ask for more followers and more reviews, because they really do motivate me to continue this story! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Why the hell do I smell like a Dane?" was the first thing I heard the next morning. I smiled to myself sleepily as I got out of bed. I hadn't slept well – too much to think about still. I walked out into the hall to see Norway chasing Denmark into the living room. I slipped past them into the kitchen, where Finland and Sweden were drinking coffee. Finland passed me a mug happily. We flinched in unison when we heard a crash from the living room.

"Um, Norway? There's coffee out here," Finland called nervously. Norway walked into the kitchen and pulled a mug out from the cabinet.

"Thank you, Finland," he said coolly. Denmark followed behind him, groaning and rubbing the back of his head. Other than that, everyone seemed fine. Well, except for…

"You guys are so loud," groaned Iceland from the hallway. He stumbled into the kitchen, squinting his eyes and holding his head. I looked backward and forth between him and the others. Why was he the only one with a hangover? He couldn't have drunk more than the others. Denmark smirked at me then walked over to Iceland.

"Ice is too young to drink in his own country," he explained, slinging an arm around Iceland's shoulders, "so he doesn't know how to drink yet."

"I know how to drink!" he snapped, shrugging Denmark off.

"Huh, that's weird," Finland mumbled. He looked at his phone while sipping his coffee.

"What is it, Finny?" asked Denmark.

"Estonia called me three times last night. I wonder what he wants?"

"Probably to become a Nordic." The other four nodded solemnly. I laughed to myself, although I honesty had no idea what they were talking about. I didn't see Estonia much, because Russia didn't really like him.

"Anyway, I'll just call him back when I get home. We should probably get going." Finland smiled at me, and I smiled shyly back. I quickly drank the rest of my coffee and put my mug in the sink with the others'. Denmark gave us some pastries to eat in the car, and then we were off.

"You know, you don't seem like the bloodthirsty monster I've heard of," Finland said casually as we crossed the bridge from Denmark into Sweden. I looked at him in surprise, and he smiled knowingly back at me.

"Um, w-well, you don't seem like the crazy sniper my brother is afraid of," I mumbled into my lap, blushing.

"I guess there's more to the both of us than what people say," he replied cheerily.

* * *

EXTRA: In Which Norway Knows More Than He Lets On

Denmark's POV

"Well, that's a relief," Norway said after Sweden had left. "You really are an idiot, stupid Dane. Inviting someone like _that_ over…"

"What are you talking about, Norge?" I asked. "You don't mean Siberia, do you?"

"Of course I mean Siberia." Norway crossed his arms and looked at me coldly. "You put all of us in danger by having her over."

"I still don't know what you're talking about, Nor."

"Yeah, she seemed nice enough to me," Iceland said. Norway walked over to him and took him by the shoulders, looking him in the eye.

"Listen to me, Iceland," he said quietly. "You're not allowed to be anywhere near her ever again, do you hear me?"

"What is your problem, Nor?!" Iceland shrieked in surprise as he jumped back.

"Yeah, Norge, what's so bad about her?" I asked.

"Did she tell you what she is?" Norway asked me sternly.

"Well, yeah, she said she used to be a weapon. But she's not like that anymore!"

"Huh, so even she doesn't know," Norway mused to himself.

"Know what, Norge?!" Norway sighed and looked down on me with contempt, a look I was used to.

"Fine, I'll tell you two," he said. "But there are some things you need to understand first…"

EXTRA: End

* * *

In Which We Get Back To The Story

"Did you know I used to live in Mr. Russia's house?"

"Really? When?" I hoped I didn't hurt him. Please don't let me have hurt him.

"It was in the late 1800s. It's funny, I don't think I ever saw you there."

"I don't think I was…around back then." Was I? Had I been…born? I didn't even know how or when I came to exist. That was odd, but I had never thought about it before. "Uh, Finland?"

"Yes?"

"Can you remember when you were born?"

"Hmm," he contemplated. "I don't think so. That was a long time ago. I do remember being really young and living in Denmark's house." Just then, Finland's phone started ringing. "Oh, can you check that for me?" I nervously grabbed his phone, having never handled one before. What in the world would I have needed a phone for?

"It's Estonia," I said, squinting to read the small letters on the screen.

"Oh for goodness's sake! Could you answer it for me and see what he wants?"

"Um, okay…" I stared at the phone, willing it to reveal its secrets to me.

"Push the green button," Finland laughed. I blushed harder and did what he told me.

"H-hello?" I said tentatively, holding the phone to my ear like I had seen Russia do.

"Who is this?" barked Estonia's voice.

"Um, this is Siberia. Finland is driving right now."

"Oh, Siberia! So you're with Finland?"

"Uh, yeah, he's driving me back to Russia's house now."

"I hope you know how worried he's been."

"Who, my brother?"

"Yes, he's very angry with you, and he's been taking it out on the rest of us. He almost sent a search party out for you!"

"But, I thought Lithuania was going to tell him where I went."

"He did, and Russia said you were supposed to come straight home."

"Oh, great, and I would have known this how?"

"Well, don't get angry at me! I'm just letting you know that he will be very angry when you get home."

"Okay, thanks, Estonia. Is that why you were trying to get ahold of Finland?"

"Yes, it was."

"Okay, bye." I pulled the phone away from my face and glared down at it.

"Push the red button to hang up," Finland said. "It's not the phone's fault you don't know how to use it."

"Russia is mad that I went with you guys last night instead of going home," I grumbled as I jabbed the button and set the phone down. I took a deep breath and counted down from ten, watching the Swedish countryside go by.

"I kind of expected as much," Finland sighed.

"I guess I'll just have to deal with it when I get home."


	8. In Which Russia Explains Everything

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Finland asked when we pulled up to Russia's house.

"No, that's okay. You can just drop me off here." Things were about to get heated, and the fewer people around the better. "Thanks again for the ride."

"No problem! You should come hang out with us again sometime!" He smiled and waved as he drove off.

I took a deep breath and walked into Russia's house. Even though I had lived there my whole life – well, as long as I could remember – I still didn't feel like it was my home. It was Russia's house, and he let me stay there. At least, that's how it always felt. "Hello?" I called out hesitantly from the foyer. "I'm home." I heard voices from the right hallway, so I followed it to Russia's office. The voices stopped when I knocked on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in," called Russia. I opened the door and walked in. Russia was sitting at his desk, and Lithuania was standing in front of it, looking distressed. "Lithuania," Russia said calmly, standing up, "please leave us." He followed him to the door and closed and locked it behind him. I swallowed nervously. He must know I was about to get very, very mad.

"Russia, I –" He silenced me with a look.

"What made you think you had permission to stay out all night?" he asked quietly.

"Um, well, Lithuania said it would be okay, and you didn't say I had to come back right after the meeting, and, um, I, uh –" Russia put a hand up to stop me.

"Look," he said, running a hand through his hair, "I obviously made a huge mistake sending you in my place yesterday. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have never even suggested it. It won't happen again."

"But it wasn't bad! I mean, yeah, it was scary and nerve-racking, and a lot of people stared at me, but I've never been outside this house, and it was nice and kind of fun, and I made new friends, and –"

"Siberia, shut up. You are never leaving this house again, and that's final." Something inside me snapped, and I went quiet. Very quiet. I heard my blood rushing in my ears, and my adrenaline spiked.

"No," I hissed. I wouldn't hold back. Russia could handle me if he really wanted to do this.

"What's wrong?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You've never had a problem with staying here before."

"I don't want to stay locked in here forever. I want to get out."

"That's not happening. I will never let you roam freely. It's too dangerous."

"No!" I grabbed something off his desk and threw it at the wall. _I will enjoy making you bleed. _Russia smirked at me, and _I wanted to rip his face off._ I rushed at him, and he smiled widely. My vision went completely red as I jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. _"I fucking hate you," _I said as my hands tightened around his neck.

"Do you not see why I can't allow you to leave?" Russia gasped, even managing to laugh. _It pissed me off even more. _I squeezed his neck tighter, lifted up, and slammed his head into the floor.

"_You're so fucking stupid!" _I screamed. _"Why can't you just die? Die! Die! Die!" _I accented each _die_ by slamming his head into the ground. Russia frowned.

"Okay, that's enough," he said, throwing me off. I slammed into the wall and fell to the ground. I felt my rage drain out of me quickly, and my vision went back to normal. The room spun, and for a second I thought I would throw up. I put my head between my legs, feeling dejected and ashamed. I wouldn't apologize; there was no need for it when I could barely hurt Russia anyway.

Russia kneeled next to me. "You understand why you can't leave, yes?"

"I do," I said, sniffling. "But England said –"

"Forget what England said. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have this problem."

"You mean, if it weren't for him, you would still have control of me."

"Yes, exactly." Russia sighed. "I guess it's about time I tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"What you are, where you come from."

"What?"

"Don't interrupt me. You are…you are me."

"I'm what? How is that –?"

"I said don't interrupt me. You are…another version of me. You're from a different world, parallel to this one but different. A world where everyone is…more willing to do the things I was hesitant to do.

"I figured if I brought you to this world, you could do the dirty work necessary for me to achieve my goals. You could also do things my boss ordered me to do, but I didn't want to do…" He paused, shaking his head in shame. "I should have known what would happen. We share the same soul, so we cannot both inhabit the same world. Since you don't belong in this world, when I brought you over, your soul was destroyed. All that was left over was the basic nature you inherited from your world: rage.

"Fortunately for me, you were exactly what I needed. You would do anything and everything exactly as you were told. When you weren't needed, we could simply lock you away where you wouldn't be seen or heard. My boss was satisfied, and I didn't have to dirty my own hands.

"Then one day, Lithuania found out what you are. He was able to get ahold of England before I could restrain him. I kept you under close guard, but England slipped through my defenses to 'save you.' He was able to make you an artificial soul, so you would have a conscience, but he wasn't able to override your basic nature."

I listened to Russia's story feeling very confused. I should have gotten angry, but I was too exhausted. "You brought me over, so you wouldn't get your hands dirty. But now you can't control me, so…"

"I still have to take responsibility for your actions." He sighed again. "I would have sent you back as soon as I found out what had happened, but England told me…"

"Told you what?" Russia looked away from me. "What did he tell you?"

"If I sent you back, you would most likely die."

"How many times have you considered sending me back anyway?" I asked carefully. Russia looked at me and refused to answer. I sighed. "I guess you won't be winning the Big Brother of the Year Award. Or I guess Alternate Self of the Year. So I'm Russia, too, huh?" I laughed bitterly. "I would almost rather be sent back than be locked up in here forever."

"You don't really mean that."

"Yes, I do. Dying would be better than staying here when I know I can handle being outside."

"That's not what I heard."

"I didn't hurt anyone…"

"No, but you easily could have. Do you really think I would endanger the world, just so you can roam around freely? No, you are my responsibility."

"What if I proved to you that I can control myself?"

"Yeah? And how would you do that?"

"Give me one week outside, and I promise I won't hurt anyone."

"You won't lose control at all? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"I might lose control, but I will keep myself from hurting anyone." Russia thought about what I said. When he seemed to come to a decision, he spoke.

"You have one week. If you lose control, you can't hurt anyone _or _do any damage. You can't use magic to help you, so no more of England's spells. And," he paused to look me square in the eyes, "if you fail, I will send you back. Do we have a deal?" He extended his hand for me to shake. If I did this, there was a very good chance I would fail. Even if I didn't die from being sent back to my "own world," I didn't think I would like to live there. Then again, if I didn't do this, I would stay locked up in Russia's house forever. I took his hand firmly and shook on it with him.

"Deal."

* * *

EXTRA: In Which Russia Plays Dirty

Russia's POV

Siberia exited my office full of confidence, and it made me sad to think I would have to send her to almost certain death. But she was my responsibility, and I would do whatever it took to protect the world from her.

"Um, excuse me, Russia?" Lithuania called from the doorway as I began to clean up from the fight.

"Come on in, Lithuania," I said, smiling. He entered the room nervously. "Did you hear all that?" He nodded.

"Are you actually going to keep to the deal? If she makes it, will you really let her out?"

"Yes, _if_ she makes it. But I have no intention of letting her make it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make her mad. She has to realize what a danger she is to others, and the quicker I prove it to her the better."

EXTRA: End

* * *

What do you know? I got another chapter out early! Okay, so here is where I stop knowing what exactly is going to happen. If you would like to make suggestions on what Russia might do to make her mad, I would love to include them! Also, I would like to give a big thank you to narusai12 for following and favoriting this story. Welcome to the party, and thanks for reading!


	9. In Which Lithuania Tells His Side

AN: Boy, I just can't decide if I want to put these at the beginning or the end of the chapter! Anyway, a huge thank you to Primula58 for favoriting this story, and my continued thanks for the anonymous reviews! Also, if you haven't guessed it yet, Siberia is kind of 2p!Fem!Russia. So she's not completely OC, but definitely OOC. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy!

* * *

As confident as I looked to Russia as I walked out of his office, I didn't feel very sure of myself. I went straight to the phone down the hall from the office and, pulling the card out of my coat, I dialed England's number. It took a few tries, and I almost threw the phone against the wall more than once, but finally I heard a ringtone that I thought signaled I did it right. I looked confusedly at the phone when I heard a click and the ringing ended.

"Hello?" came a voice from the other side.

"Um, England?" I answered hesitantly. "It's me, Siberia."

"Siberia? What is it you need?"

* * *

"Wow," England said after I had told him everything. "I had no idea he didn't tell you. I would have explained it to you otherwise. So you've been going around for 50-odd years without knowing where you come from?"

"I guess," I replied glumly. "Anyway, can you help me? Without magic, that is."

"Of course, I'm happy to help. I'll make a few calls. Would you like to stay at my house for the duration of the week?"

"Yes, I would," I said gratefully, thinking of the tension that would envelop this house if I stayed.

"Okay, I'll come pick you up in an hour and a half."

"Okay." I made a note of when he would arrive.

"Is there anyone else who would help that you can call in the meantime?"

"Yes." I felt around in my pocket for the other number.

"Okay, I'll see you soon." I heard a click that I figured meant he had hung up. I dialed the other number I had, only messing up once this time before I heard the satisfactory dial tone.

"Hello?" Denmark answered on the fourth ring.

"Denmark? It's me," I replied.

"Siberia!" he greeted happily. "What's up?"

"I need your help." I explained everything to him. He was quiet for a moment.

"So Norge was right after all," he mused to himself.

"What?"

"He told me you…aren't from this world."

"How did everyone know before me?" I asked, exasperated. Didn't anyone think I should know about myself?

"Norge just told me after you left." He sounded hesitant.

"He was telling you to stay away from me, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but I'm not going to listen to him. If you need me, I'm here for you. Iceland said as much, too."

"Iceland did?" That surprised me, as I hadn't spoken to him much, and he didn't seem to care a lot about anything.

"Well, he likes to do anything his brother tells him not to do. But either way, we'll both support you."

"Thank you so much." I smiled as I felt a warm, fuzzy feeling start in my stomach and spread throughout my body. So this is what it felt like to have friends. "I really appreciate it."

"Just let me know if you need anything from me!"

"I don't at the moment, but I'll let you know if I do. Well, I'd better go get packed. I'm staying at England's house for the week."

"Okay, then you'll be a lot closer to me! Oh, and Siberia?"

"What is it?"

"I believe in you." I smiled brightly as I hung up.

"It's good to see you genuinely smile."

"Oh, Lithuania!" I said as I turned to see him watching me. "I didn't see you there, you scared me!"

"Sorry!" He smiled at me.

"It's okay," I replied, signaling him to follow me to my room.

"I'm sorry for telling Russia…" he began when we got there.

"Don't worry about it. I know how Russia can get." I opened the heavy curtains covering the windows. I had never realized how dark my room was. This was probably the first time in at least 50 years that sunlight came freely into my room.

I looked around for some kind of bag to put clothes in. I didn't have a suitcase or even a purse. In the very back of my closet, I found a small travel bag. Upon closer inspection, I found a small tag on it with the Soviet flag. I started and tore the offending tag off. I tossed the bag onto my bed and started to fill it with every article of clothing I put my hands on. Not that I had much clothing anyway.

"If it makes you feel any better," Lithuania said quietly, "I believe in you."

"It does." I gave him a small smile, and he returned it. "Can I ask you something, Lithuania?"

"Sure."

"Why didn't you just ask England to kill me?" Lithuania sat down on my bed, taking a deep breath.

"I used to hate you," he said quietly. "We all did. We all would have been glad if you had died." I nodded. I had hurt the Baltics badly, and they had every right to hate me. "We couldn't see you as anything but a-a…"

"A monster," I finished for him. There really was no other word for it; I had been a monster. Hell, I still was a monster. I just kept it hidden well.

"I-it's nothing against you," Lithuania said quickly. "It wasn't all the punishments, though those didn't really help. It was how much you…enjoyed it. There are those like us who can be evil when they want, but you didn't seem to care if you accidentally killed one of us. We had never seen someone like us with such a disregard for the life of a country. It made us wonder if you were like us at all. If I had encountered England back then, I would have had him kill you."

His story was bringing back…uncomfortable memories. I took a deep breath to settle the monster they brought out.

"Then one day," he continued, "I heard Russia and his boss talking. His boss was praising him for what a success you had been.

'Yeah,' said Russia, 'but I thought she would be more…conscious. I thought I would be able to plan with her or at least converse with her. She follows orders so precisely, but I wonder if she really understands them.'

'Yes, you did say that was a consequence of bringing her over, didn't you?' his boss said.

"After hearing all this, I got curious and tried to find out what they meant. I ended up reading through Russia's diary one day while he was out. I told Estonia and Latvia what I had read, and they were as shocked as I. The next time I, um, saw you, I tried to talk to you. I realized that Russia was right; it was like you couldn't understand anything I said." I paused in my packing. I couldn't remember him ever trying to talk to me. Thinking back on it, even the orders I had been given had been muffled and mixed up in my head. I think they had had to teach me the hard way not to go too far during my "sessions," because I couldn't understand when they had said not to kill the countries.

"The more I thought about your situation, the angrier I became," Lithuania said, interrupting my thoughts. "You had had a life of your own, and they had literally ripped you away from it. Then you had to bare the consequence of losing yourself as well as being used as a weapon. I no longer wanted to kill you; I wanted to give you your life back. Somehow I was able to get into contact with England, and I told him everything. He told me that sending you back wouldn't give your soul back and would most likely kill you. He instead suggested that we give you an artificial soul. And then you know the rest." He shook his head and looked into his lap. "I would have told you everything, but I guess I just didn't think you were ready to hear it all yet. No, that's not true. In reality, I guess I'm just ashamed I couldn't do more for you. I can't say this life is any better for you now."

"What? Why are you blaming yourself?" I asked, taking a seat next to him on the bed. "This isn't your fault, and I would never even think of putting the blame on you. This is all Russia's doing." I wondered to myself if that meant it was also my doing, since I was also Russia. "Besides," I continued, "I'm getting it under control. According to England, I'll be able to control myself effortlessly if I practice enough."

Just then, I heard the doorbell ring. I hadn't realized how much time had passed; it was already time for England to pick me up. I walked out into the hallway, but Russia had already answered the door.

"You," he said indifferently. "I suppose you're here to take my little sister away."

"Only for the week," England said cautiously.

"That's fine." Russia sighed, opening the door and stepping out of the way. "Please come in. There are a few things I would like to discuss with you in private first."

"Okay." England nodded at me before following Russia into his office. The door closed behind them. I returned to my room to finish packing. When I walked into the foyer, toting the travel bag, England was just emerging from the office. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded silently, following him outside to his car. I looked back once before getting in. Russia and Lithuania stood in the doorway, watching me go. Lithuania smiled slightly, but Russia looked somewhat sad. I got in the car, feeling confused and a bit sad as well.


	10. In Which Airplanes Are Scary

AN: I'm sorry this is late! This turned out to be a boring filler chapter, so I had no motivation to finish it. Write me some reviews, and I promise the next one will come out on time! Maybe even early! Anyway enjoy!

* * *

"What did my brother want to talk to you about?" I asked England in the car.

"He wanted to make sure I understood the rules," he replied. "He said that the week starts tomorrow, since you already broke something today." He eyed me. "He said you never bother to control yourself at home."

"I've never felt the need to," I protested. "Russia can handle me when I'm…well, you know."

"That's not a good excuse, Siberia. He doesn't think you have any control, since he's never seen it."

"That's not true; he's seen me control myself around everyone else." Namely Lithuania. He seemed to be around a whole lot more than everyone else. I couldn't imagine why.

"He said you've slipped up a few times around others." I flinched, thinking of how Lithuania always seemed to get in the way when I lost control.

"I guess you could say I'm still a work in progress, but you already knew that."

"This isn't a joke, Siberia. Russia made me swear on my honor as a gentleman to report if you mess up. And he assured me that he _will_ send you back if you can't make it."

"Will I really die if I get sent back?"

"Most likely. Crossing worlds is really dangerous. Even if you make it back, it's unlikely you'll survive."

"Like what?"

"Well, you might have been replaced as Russia in your world. If that happened, there might be another version of Siberia in that world. You definitely wouldn't survive having your soul destroyed again."

"Russia is such a great brother," I said bitterly, trying to wrap my head around the possibility of two other versions of me. England fixed me with a stern look.

"What would you do in his position?" he asked seriously. "Not only did he bring you over, he _is_ you. So he feels personally responsible for any damage you do."

"Well, like you said, he _is_ the one who brought me over. Maybe he _should_ feel responsible for me."

"He's just worried about the consequences of letting you roam free. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Why are you defending him?" I felt a little betrayed. Wasn't he supposed to be on my side?

"I'm just explaining his reasoning. He's doing what he thinks is best, and I want you to understand that."

"He wants to kill me. I think I might hate him."

"Then you don't understand yet."

"He ripped me away from my life, causing me to become a mindless killing machine. Then once I regained some of my sanity, he decided he needs to get rid of me. I'm not just some broken gun to be thrown away or put in storage." Angry tears filled my eyes, threatening to spill over. I squeezed my eyes shut and took deep breaths to calm the blood rushing in my ears.

"We're here," England said awkwardly. I opened my eyes. We were parked in front of a large metal building with a large…vehicle in front.

"What in the world is that?" I asked as we got out of the car.

"It's an airplane," he replied like it was the most obvious think in the world. I racked my brain for the word, sure I had read it somewhere…

_"Brother, what's an airplane?" I ask from the doorway of Russia's office. He looks up at me in surprise._

_ "Siberia? You actually left your room?" he asks quietly._

_ "I didn't hear anyone around, so I thought it might be safe. I've never heard the word before, what does it mean?"_

_ "Oh, you're so cute," he chuckles. "An airplane is like a big car that flies."_

"We're going to fly?!" I asked incredulously.

"Of course, unless you'd like to walk all the way across Europe then swim across the Channel."

"But…is it even safe?"

"Of course it is. It's my private jet; I use it all the time."

He grabbed my bag and walked towards the big hunk of metal that was arrogant enough to think it could fly. Realizing that I was not following, he sighed and waved a signal to the plane. I vaguely wondered if it was going to wave back. A side door towards the front – at least, I thought it was the front – of the plane opened, and a man stepped out.

"Something you need, sir?" he called as he walked towards us.

"She's never flown before, and she's a little nervous," England said when he got closer to us.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, miss. I've been a pilot for ten years, and nothing has ever gone wrong. It's actually safer to fly than to drive."

"A-are you sure?" I asked skeptically, wondering to myself what a pilot was.

"Yep, I have hard evidence to back me up," he answered, smiling.

"Um, o-okay…" The man took my bag from England, and I reluctantly followed the two towards the plane. We climbed a metal staircase that lead to another opening in the side of the plane. The man stored my bag in an overhead cabinet then exited to roll away the stairs.

England offered me a seat next to a window. I quickly sat down and buckled myself in tightly. He chuckled as he sat down next to me.

"I promise you'll be fine," he said. "I try to avoid taking the jet if I can drive, since it's expensive, but I've used it enough to know it's safe."

"O-okay…" I said quietly, still not sure at all about this flying thing. "What is a pilot?"

"He flies the plane."

"How?" I felt my eyes grow big, probably a disconcerting sight.

"If I knew how, I would tell you. Just think of this like a car, and he's the driver."

"Oh, okay."

A few minutes later, the plane began to move.

"Why are we on the ground?"

"We have to speed up before we can take off."

The plane sped down the "runway" as England called it before tilting upwards and taking flight. My eyes were glued to the window, waiting for the plane to fall back down. The higher we climbed, the harder my heart pounded. Before I realized it, my vision began to go red. Perhaps my panicking state had triggered it.

"Um, Siberia? Your eyes…"

"Sh-_shut up_," I whispered, covering my face with my hands. I fought to regain control, but my adrenaline was spiraling out of control.

England, for his part, did keep quiet. He didn't touch me or try to help me. I began to hyperventilate, and my vision went blurry. The blood swam before my eyes. Eventually I got dizzy enough that the bloodlust faded. My stomach churned, and he quickly handed me a paper sack to vomit into. Denmark's pastries didn't taste so great the second time.

"Are you alright?" England asked. I nodded, shivering miserably. I carefully got up to find a place to dispose of the bag. I found the bathroom and thoroughly rinsed my mouth out. "I'm sorry," he said quietly when I returned to my seat.

"What for?" I asked, noticing that he had pulled the window shade shut.

"I should have known…"

"It's not your fault."

"But I shouldn't be putting you in uncomfortable situations."

"No, I need to get used to the real world. These are unavoidable situations, and I need to learn to control myself when in them."

"But…" he continued to protest.

"Look, I'm fine." I pulled up the window shade a little bit to test myself. "See? It's fine – woah…" I opened the shade completely and looked down at the clouds. It was amazing! I kept my eyes glued to the window for the rest of the flight. However, when we were about to land, England reached over and firmly closed the shade.

"We're not doing that again," he said, and I couldn't help but agree.


	11. In Which England's House is Popular

Huge thank you to RedNyx for favoriting this story! Read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

It was raining at England's house, but he assured me that was normal. He carried my bag in for me and led me to a room on the second floor.

"You can use this room," he said, setting the bag on the bed. "I have a lot of empty rooms around here, so if you find another one, go ahead and take it."

"This one is fine," I said, smiling awkwardly.

England took me on a quick tour of his house. It had even more empty rooms than Denmark's. I asked him about that, and he smiled bitterly.

"I used to be a big empire," he said sadly. "Almost everyone has moved out now."

When we finished the tour, he led me to his office. He sat down at his desk to work on paperwork, and I sat across from him silently. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," England called, and a blonde haired man entered the room. "America? What are you doing here?"

I looked at the man confusedly. Sure, he looked a lot like the loud man from yesterday, but he had longer hair and violet eyes. He couldn't have changed that much in a day, could he?

"I'm Canada," he said quietly, "and you called me here." Even though he said it quietly, I noticed that he squeezed the white bear in his arms slightly.

"Oh, so you are," England said, squinting at him. "Sorry about that."

"Please try to remember next time. Anyway, why did you call me here?"

"Ah, yes." England still seemed unsure of the man's identity. "This is Siberia, who I told you about."

"Nice to meet you," Canada said to me, smiling.

"Um, hi," I said, standing up to shake his hand.

"She has a bit of an, um, anger problem," England explained. "I was hoping you could give her some advice."

"I don't know if I'm the best person for this. Couldn't you have called India instead?"

"He was busy, and we're on a tight schedule."

"Um, okay…"

England showed us to the parlor and brought us tea. Having never drank tea before, I studied it closely before taking a careful sip. I suppressed a grimace at its bitterness and wondered how anyone could stand it.

"Most people around here add milk and sugar," Canada said kindly.

"Uh, right," I said, blushing. He chuckled softly and showed me how to stir them in. It tasted a bit better after that.

"I'm not sure what England wants me to tell you. India could have taught you how to meditate or something. The only thing I can do is disappear or get mistaken for America."

"Do you ever get angry when people forget who you are?"

"Of course I do. Just about everyone does it, so it gets really annoying."

"What do you do about it?"

"Nothing other than reminding them who I am. I haven't done anything out of anger since I burned down America's house in 1812."

"How do you manage that?" I couldn't imagine going through that everyday and not doing anything about it.

"I do thing about giving people what for sometimes." He paused to take a sip of tea. "But then I think of things that make me happy, like my mountains or maple syrup. Then I don't feel as angry."

"So maybe if I think of things that make me happy, I'll calm down?"

"Well, it's worth a shot."

"I only get one shot," I said quietly, looking into my tea. Not wanting to feel rude, I gulped down some more of the strange liquid. It was cooling, so it tasted even worse.

"What makes you happy?" Canada asked after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know. I've only been outside my brother's house for a day."

"Well, a lot can happen in a day. I'm sure you've seen something that makes you happy."

I closed my eyes and visualized the past 24 hours backwards. I thought of Lithuania's unfailing kindness and envisioned him trying to protect me despite all I've done. I saw the Nordics' ridiculous drunken party and Denmark's ever-present smile. Then I thought of England's helpfulness and encouragement. Finally I saw Prussia's teasing smile, coaxing me out of my room and into the light. Before I knew it, a smile had broken across my face.

"Looks like you found it," Canada said when I opened my eyes. I blushed.

"Um, the people I've met. They make me happy."

We chatted for a bit before Canada had to go back to his house to work. He wished me good luck and gave me his number in case I needed more advice. I felt optimistic as I sat across from England again. However I quickly became bore of just sitting there. One of my legs got tingly, and I shook it. England sighed.

"If you're bored, go grab one of my books. You enjoy reading, don't you?"

I walked over to the bookshelf in his office. Before I could examine the titles, someone burst through the door.

"Britain! What's up, dude?" shouted the blonde intruder.

"America? What on earth are you doing here?" England exclaimed back. He was right this time; that was definitely the America I had met the day before.

"I got all my work done for the day, so I thought I'd come and bug you!" His shouting was very, _very_ annoying. And of course, England reacted to it.

"You bloody wanker, don't distract me while I'm trying to work!" I really, _really_ didn't like shouting. And the goofy grin on America's face only served to _piss me off _even more.

"Hey, I remember you from yesterday!" he said to me. I winced at the assault to my ears.

"Yes, um, we did meet. I-I'm—"

"You're Serbia, right?"

"Uh, no, I'm S-siberia…"

"Oh that's right, Serbia is that weird Mexican country. You're that weird Chinese country, but you're not Chinese, and you're not actually a country!"

I don't think I had ever felt this feeling before. What was it? Some mixture of anger and annoyance with a dash of hurt and pride. Oh, so this is what it felt like to be offended. Who cares if I was a real country or not? I was _here, god damnit._

"Um, America, I think that's enough," England said, finally catching on. _It's about time, idiot. _I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. My vision began to go red.

"Chill out, England!" America laughed. "So, Serbia, how's your stupid Commie brother doing?"

_That does it. No one talks about the Motherland like that. It's time to die, you Capitalist pig._ I sat down on the ground and held very still, trying to remember what Canada had said.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" America asked loudly, crouching next to me.

"_Shut the hell up, Capital—_America, please." I closed my eyes tightly and tried to think of things that made me happy.

_ "Hey," Denmark says, leaning forward between the front seats. I look up at him, and he smiles warmly. "You have a pretty smile."_

I opened my eyes, and my vision was no longer red. The room spun, and I quickly ran out. I almost made it to the bathroom but ended up retching into a garbage can in the hall instead. Since I hadn't eaten anything since the flight, only acidy tea came up. It was definitely worse the second time. After wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I slumped onto the ground and leaned against the wall. I was exhausted after losing control three times in the same day. I shut my eyes against the still-spinning room.

"Hey, are you okay?" I opened my eyes to see America crouched next to me. England stood behind him, looking down on me worriedly.

"Yeah," I rasped. America frowned slightly.

"Hey, England, can you go get her a glass of water? And don't burn it." England shook his head and laughed softly.

"Bloody wanker," he said as he walked towards the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"That was…really insensitive of me. I can get away with that shit with England, but I don't know you well enough. I'm sorry for being so rude."

"It's…it's okay," I said quietly, amazed that he could be serious.

"Are you sick?" he asked.

"No, just…overexerted."

"We should get you some food then, too. I'll go make you something, since England's food sucks!" With that, he stood up and pranced towards the kitchen.

England came back with a glass of water and helped me to sit in the parlor. I sipped the water and shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," I said, blushing deeply.

"What for?" England asked, sitting down next to me.

"That was the second—no, third time today. I'm not doing very well already."

"I don't know what you're apologizing for. You're doing a great controlling yourself, even when you lose control. I told you that it would get easier. Has it?"

"Um, I guess it was easier to calm down. And I don't feel as awful as I usually do."

"So you've made progress."

"Yeah, I guess I have."

America brought the food he had made. It was a greasy sandwich that he called "grilled cheese." It was buttery and crispy on the outside and cheesy and gooey on the inside. It was very different from the Russian food I usually ate, but it was good. I told him so, and he smiled cheekily at England.

"Just stay away from McDonald's," England said, rolling his eyes.

After I finished eating, America commandeered England's computer. He showed me his favorite video game and tried to teach me how to play it.

"You really suck at this!" he laughed happily. "I can't believe you've never used a computer before!"

"I never even thought about it," I admitted, blushing. Honestly, I had probably heard as much about computers as I had about airplanes. It didn't help that I was used to reading Russian, and everything on England's computer was in English. I could manage, but I was very slow.

Eventually America had to go home, and I was left bored again. I searched England's bookshelves for something to read, but I was too tired to translate the English titles. Luckily, England was just finishing with his paperwork for the day. We ordered take-out, as he admitted he couldn't cook without setting off the smoke alarm. We chatted a bit after we ate, and I went to bed early. I was so exhausted that I fell asleep almost as soon as I lay down. Unfortunately, it didn't last long…


	12. In Which We Might Have A Problem

AN: I am putting this story on a temporary hiatus. I need to take some time to figure out where I'm going and how I want to get there, and I can't do that if I'm worrying about putting a new chapter out every week. I'm just going to gather my thoughts, get a few chapters ahead of myself, and be back as soon as possible. I am still extremely open to any suggestions; you can leave a review or pm me. In fact, the more suggestions I get, the faster the story will be back. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

_I look out the window and watch the rioters break through the gate._

_ "I suppose I have to abdicate the throne," says Tsar Nicholas. "This will be the end of the Russian Empire." A single tear escapes my eye, and all I can do is watch as my world falls apart. "Are you going to be okay?" he interrupts my thoughts. "What will happen to you when the government is taken apart?"_

_ "It's going to hurt," I say, my voice sounding flat and empty. "But I'll be okay as long as the people consider themselves to be Russian." I finally tear my eyes away from the window to look at the Tsar. "What about you? Will your family be safe?"_

_ "Of course," he says, smiling hesitantly. "They don't need to kill the royal family for the sake of a revolution. As long as I abdicate, we will be safe." Thinking back on the French Revolution, I cannot find it in myself to believe him. I do not think he completely believes himself._

_ I feel it when he gives up the tsardom and dissolves the empire. I lay in my bed in preparation for the announcement, not wishing to hear it myself. It feels as if my heart is being ripped out of my chest, and in a way it is. A provisional government is established; it feels like a simple patch placed over a gaping wound. The Romanovs are taken into custody, and I am not allowed to see them. My people call for me to make a speech. They want guidance from me. Like France during her revolution, I remain carefully neutral throughout the civil war. However, there is contempt brewing in my soul for the Russian people. They are all traitors to me. I wonder if I will ever forgive them._

_ The Bolsheviks come to me to tell me they've murdered the Romanovs. "It's time for you to side with the Red Army," they say. My heart hardens as I pledge my loyalty to Red. Red for Bolsheviks. Red for Communism. Red for the blood of the Romanovs, spilled unnecessarily. If the Russian people want Red, I will give them Red. Red for the blood of the traitor Russians, spilled as I please. _

_They will pay for my pain and for the deaths of Nicholas and Alexandra. For Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, and especially for Alexei. Poor, sick, little Alexei. Those monsters cut his life far too short. I can be a monster, too. I can kill, too. I will kill in the name of this new Soviet Union, under my new name: United Soviet States of Russia…_

I woke up screaming. I looked around the unfamiliar room I was in. Sweat plastered my hair to my face. I began to hyperventilate, not knowing where I was.

"Siberia?" The door to the room opened, and a blonde man turned on the lights. England, that was England. I was in England's house, in one of his spare bedrooms. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I-I had a nightmare," I said, gasping. "I dreamed about the February Revolution and the Russian Civil War."

"It was just a dream," he said softly, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"It felt like more than a dream, though. It felt real, like a memory or something. How is that possible? I thought all of my memories were destroyed."

"I don't know, Siberia. I thought that, too. Perhaps it has something to do with your connection to your brother."

"In my dream, I _was_ Russia." A deep frown set upon England's brow. I took a glance at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It was 2:16 am.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow," England said, running a hand through his hair. "For now, why don't you try to get back to sleep?" He left, switching off the light. I tried to go back to sleep, but everytime I closed my eyes I saw the riots in St. Petersburg. I finally gave up and went back down the stairs. I found England in his office looking through a heavy book. He sighed when he saw me. "You really do need your sleep," he said. I shook my head.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm trying to figure out what's going on, but I don't have enough information on souls. I'll have to consult a couple of people tomorrow."

"Who?"

"Norway, who I believe you've met, and Romania, who you probably haven't."

"Norway doesn't trust me. But then again, I wouldn't trust me either."

"Try to understand, Siberia, he's probably just concerned for his family."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. I wouldn't be helping you if I didn't." Somehow, that didn't make me feel any better.

"What makes you think Norway and Romania will help me?"

"They trust me. Now come on, we both need sleep."

"I can't…" England thought to himself for a minute.

"Here," he said. "We can both sleep in the parlor. Then if you have a nightmare, I'll wake you up." We brought blankets and pillows into the parlor. England let me sleep on the couch while he took the chair across from it. It took me a while to fall back asleep, but I finally did drift off…

_I run through the thick snow from my pursuers. I hate them. I hate everyone. Who do they think they are, thinking they can keep conquering me? I've had to pay tribute to the Tatars for a couple centuries now, and I am fucking sick of it. I will never let anyone control me like this again._

_ I had to teach the Teutonic Knights a lesson the other day. She was trying to convert me to Christianity again, and she apparently came back for more. I pull out my knife and whip around to face my pursuers. My lips pull back into something that is part sneer and part smile. I am ready for them…_

I awoke with a gasp. England shifted, opening his eyes to look at me groggily. "Another nightmare?" he asked. I nodded. "What was it about this time?"

"When I, I mean Russia was constantly invaded by the Mongols and the Tatars. During the Tatar Yoke." I balled my hands into fists, still feeling slightly angry. If the dream was real, I had been practically born angry and murderous. It seemed accurate enough, from what I'd read of Russian history. I felt sick. England also looked troubled.

Checking the clock, he said, "I suppose it's about time to wake up, anyways." It was about 6:15 am. The world meeting would meet again in Berlin that day. There had been a couple things left to discuss when the meeting had fallen apart a couple days ago. It would only last until noon, so England suggested I stay back.

The phone rang, and England looked at it curiously. "Who would be calling at this time?" he mused as he walked over to pick it up. "Hello? Oh, it's you. Yes, she's here. One moment, I'll get her." He set the phone down on the table. "It's for you." He walked into the kitchen, mumbling something about breakfast. I walked over to the phone and tentatively picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Siberia! How are you, Little Sister?" Russia chirped happily from the other side.

"I'm, um, doing well," I said.

"I'm glad. The house seems so empty here without you." He sighed, and I was surprised at how serious he sounded. He didn't actually miss me, did he? "But it's okay, because I'll be seeing you at the meeting today, da?"

"No, I'm not going to the meeting."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to be outside."

"Well, it's really short, and England thinks it wouldn't be a good idea, and I don't even know what I would do there. I mean, it doesn't really pertain to me, and –"

"Maybe I should rephrase. I _will_ see you at the meeting today." My eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that an order, Brother?" I asked calmly, though I felt far from calm.

"If that is how you want to take it, Sister," Russia replied cheerily. I began to smell something…burning in the kitchen?

"I've got to go," I said quickly, thinking of what America had said about England's cooking.

"See you in Berlin!" I hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen. England was staring at his smoking toaster in surprise, as if he had no idea how it managed to burn bread that badly. I rolled my eyes and gently nudged him out of the way.

"I'll make the toast," I said.

After breakfast, I went up to my room to get ready for the meeting. I looked through the clothes I had brought – which were basically all of my clothes – for something suitable to wear. Once again, I felt that my overcoat was the nicest article of clothing I owned. Most of my clothes were Belarus's old casual dresses or Russia's old sweaters, and they were too big for me. I sighed as I slipped on a black, shapeless dress that didn't suit me at all. I wondered to myself what I had been wearing when I was brought over. Curiously, I dug deeper into my bag. I pulled out a long, black dress with red flowers that I hadn't worn in a while. As far as I knew, it hadn't come from any of my siblings, so I could probably assume that it was actually mine. I grimaced as I noticed the blood stains on the white collar; it was the dress I always wore during a "reeducation session."

I continued to get ready, both physically and mentally. When I had told England Russia's demands, he had just shrugged.

"We might as well play along with his schemes for now," he had said.

"But he's trying to get me to snap," I had protested.

"It will be fine, you're very strong. Besides, what all can he do at a world meeting?"

I grudgingly brushed my hair. It took way too long, and I considered cutting half of it off before I finished. I was not in the greatest mood already, so I took a moment to think some happy thoughts. After that, I went downstairs, ready for anything Russia would throw at me.


	13. The First Day

AN: I'm back, guys! I'm no longer completely burned out on this story, and I'm a couple chapters ahead! So, hopefully, I'm back to weekly updates! Big thanks to Twin Masks for following the story and to Brenna13 for following and favoriting! Also a huge thanks to Primula58 for reviewing! You guys really motivate me to keep working!

* * *

England and I entered the meeting room fairly early, so only about half of the world was there.

"Hey, Siberia!" Denmark called, walking up to me. England excused himself to go talk to France. "I didn't know you were coming today."

"I didn't either," I grumbled.

"Well, you're welcome to come sit with me and my family again."

"That's okay, Denmark," said Russia from behind me. "I'll show her where to sit." He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. Denmark nodded tersely and walked away. I didn't blame him.

"Do I have to sit by you?" I asked Russia resignedly.

"No, you're not sitting at the table with us," he replied, his smile widening. I looked at him questioningly. "You're sitting at the Phony Nation Table."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're not a real country. Only countries can sit at the regular table."

"But I am a country. I'm Russia, too." Russia's face darkened.

"Not anymore, you're not."

He guided me to a small, plastic table in one corner of the room. Prussia sat on one of the little, red chairs.

"Siberia?" he said, looking at me in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"She's going to sit here today," Russia replied, smiling again. "Now, you be good, Little Sister!" He practically skipped away. I felt anger rising in me, but I took a deep breath.

"Siberia, what's going on?" Prussia asked quietly.

"I made a deal with Russia. If I can behave for an entire week, I get my freedom from him. If not—"

"Are you crazy?" he exclaimed. "You can't even go a day without losing control! How the hell are you going to make it a whole week?"

"I'm allowed to lose control," I argued. "I just can't hurt anyone or anything."

"You're not going to make it. This was a very stupid idea."

"Y-you don't believe in me?"

My face felt hot, and tears pricked at my eyes. At the realization that I was about to cry, I got even more angry. I was about to say something to him when a little boy with blonde hair, blue eyes, and familiarly thick eyebrows sat at the table.

"The Adorable Sealand is here at last!" he exclaimed. His voice grated on me, and I gritted my teeth. "Today I will prove to that jerk England that I'm a real country!" My eyes met Prussia's, and I gave him a pleading look as more children and a couple older people came to sit at the table. "Who are you?" Sealand asked me loudly. I kept my mouth shut, sure I would lose control if I tried to speak.

"That's Siberia," Prussia answered for me.

"Is she a micronation, too?"

"No, not exactly."

"I'm Sealand, this is Wy, Ladonia, Seborga, Kugelmugel, and Molossia!"

I nodded absently, still trying to calm down. However, they quickly began to argue with each other. I couldn't hold the other side of me back any longer. I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my fists as my vision went red. Through my rage, I made sure not to grab onto the table, since I would probably break it.

"Hey, guys," Prussia said, interrupting the micronations' argument. "I bet you guys can't be quieter than the Awesome Me!"

I heard cries of "No way!" and "You're on!" before the Phony Nation Table fell silent. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes a little. Through the blood red haze, I saw Prussia wink at me. In the back of my mind, I noted how similar his red eyes were to mine.

My vision faded back to normal, but I felt dizzy. However, even though I felt really sick, I didn't throw up for once. I smiled to myself. This was getting easier.

"Thank you," I said to Prussia after the meeting.

"There's no need to thank me. I'm really sorry, Siberia," he said.

"It's okay. If everyone believed I could make it, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

"But still, I'm supposed to be your friend. That was really unawesome of me." He looked down until a thought occurred to him. "I'll tell you what, why don't I take you out for lunch again?"

"That'd be great," I replied, smiling. "Let me go tell England." I went to go find him.

"Oh good," he said when I told him. "I'm going out to lunch with some people, too." We arranged to meet at the ferry port after lunch, so we could go back to his house together.

I told Prussia everything over lunch and some beers. He simply nodded.

"You knew?" I asked, wondering how many other people knew before I did.

"I had guessed as much," he replied, shrugging.

"Are you…like me?"

"In a way, I'm similar to you. Was it my eyes or my sparkling personality that gave me away?"

"So our eyes are similar for a reason?"

"Everyone from my world had red eyes, so I would assume the same for yours."

"You remember? We're not from the same world?"

"Yes, I remember, and no, there was a male Russia in my world. I was brought over to fight when I was very young. My soul was destroyed in a similar way to yours, but I didn't have anyone around to make me an artificial one. Over the years, I built up control, and I guess you could say I made my own soul."

"So that's how you knew that alcohol would help me keep calm." He nodded. "Who's parallel are you?"

"It's kind of complicated, because my land changed names and ownership a few times. Simply put, I'm a parallel to Germany."

* * *

Extra: In Which the Magic Club Meets

England shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Norway scrutinized him with a cold glare. Romania watched the two with a smirk on his face.

"I told you when I gave you that spell that it would only serve as a band-aid," Norway said quietly. "I still don't understand why you didn't just send her back. It would have been kinder to her in the long run."

"I couldn't sentence her to death like that," England said defensively. "Besides, it wasn't her fault that she was like that. Anyway, that is the past, and I'm asking you about the present. Do you know what's happening?"

"Well, I can't say for sure, since no one has ever used that spell before," Norway said. "It's possible that her soul wasn't completely destroyed in the first place. It could have been repressed this whole time by her proximity to Russia, and now that she's out of his house, her original soul is expressing itself again as memories. Or it's possible that she has some other connection to Russia and is experiencing the same dreams as him."

"I don't think she would have a connection to him that is not through their souls," Romania said. "Maybe the dreams are just that. I'm sure that she knows a bit about Russian history, despite how naïve she is. It's entirely possible that she is just having stress-induced nightmares."

"Yes, all of those make sense," England said, staring down into his cup of tea. He really hoped that Siberia was only having nightmares.

"No matter what is happening, she is still extremely dangerous, England," Norway said. "Even Russia realizes that. I still don't understand why you are helping her."

"I think she can control herself. She's been doing so well."

"But it only takes a small relapse to cause a lot of damage. I'm just trying to look out for my family."

"I can understand that, Norway. However, it seems Denmark and Iceland promised to help her however they can." Norway's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, barely giving away any of the worry he surely felt.

"If she hurts my little brother, I will hold you responsible," he said lowly. He stared England in the eyes, silently conveying the damage he would do if anything happened to his precious Iceland. "And I will send her back myself."

"I understand," England said levelly. After a few moments of awkward silence, Romania coughed.

"I don't care what she does to that idiot Denmark, though," Norway said briskly. After that, their meeting went on as usual. It was as if England had never brought up Siberia in the first place. However, after they had paid the bill and stood up to leave, Norway asked quietly, "You're not going to tell Siberia any of this, are you?"

"No," England replied, frowning. "There's no need to worry her more with what the possibilities could be. I'm just going to continue researching. I'll keep a close eye on her, too."

"You'd better."

Extra: End

* * *

When we got back to his house, England practically locked himself up in his office for the rest of the day. He allowed me in only to grab a book then instructed me not to bother him. I assumed that meant that he hadn't gotten any answers from Norway or Romania, so I didn't complain. I simply sat in the parlor and read a book about Anglicanism.

When my stomach was grumbling loud enough to distract me from the book, I knocked on the door to the office.

"There should be food in the pantry that you can make, if you're that hungry," England called from the other side of the door. "Just help yourself."

"Okay," I said hesitantly then went to go find some food.

After I ate, I spent the rest of the night reading and wandering around the house. I thought about calling someone, but I realized it wasn't their job to entertain me. Finally I went to bed around 21:00.

* * *

I do not own the Phony Nation Table. That belongs to LittleAPHHeadcanons on Tumblr.


	14. The Second Day

Here's a nice, long chapter for you guys! But I'm kind of losing steam again, so if you could leave a review it would really motivate me! Especially if you have any suggestions for what should happen next, because I'm not quite sure. Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

_"Big Sister," calls a solemn voice behind me. I don't have to turn around to know who it is._

_ "Yes, Belarus?" I answer quietly._

_ "How long are you going to continue to punish your people?" I turn around to look at my little brother, and he smirks at me._

_ "Until they learn not to revolt again," I reply with a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Come, Brother, I have plans to discuss with you about the prisons in Siberia…"_

I awoke with a start. "Not again," I muttered to myself. Looking at the clock, I noted that it was only 1:03. I didn't want to bother England again, so I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

_I storm into my house, almost ripping my office door off its hinges._

_ "M-miss Russia?" squeaks a voice from the hallway. I turn around to face Lithuania. "How was your meeting with Miss Germany?"_

_ "There's been…an unexpected hitch in the plan," I say surprisingly calmly. "I need to get on the phone with my boss as soon as possible. So if you'll excuse me…" I turn around to grab the telephone off my desk, and I hear Lithuania gasp._

_ "Miss Russia, your back…"_

_ "Ah, yes," I say, reaching back and pulling the knife out. Blood spills onto my hand, and I'm sure it has already stained my favorite coat. I smile at my blood splattered reflection on the knife's surface. "That would be Germany's"_

* * *

I woke up again at 5:30. My heart was racing, and I swore I could still feel a stabbing pain in the middle of my back. I decided to get up; I had had enough of those dreams for a while. As I got dressed, I looked at my back in the mirror. I gasped when I saw a scar in the middle of my back as well as dozens of other deep scars covering my skin.

I realized that I had never really taken a look at myself before. I turned in the mirror, examining the evidence of Russian history on my body. I felt tears form in my eyes, remembering some of the things I had seen in my dreams. Suddenly, I had a thought from one of my dreams, so I quickly dressed in a heavy, gray, wool dress.

I hurriedly descended the stairs and grabbed the phone in the parlor. I stared at it as I realized that I didn't have the number I needed.

"Who are you trying to call?" asked England from his office door, and I jumped in surprise. He had shadows under his eyes and creases on his face that told me he had fallen asleep on his books.

"I'm trying to call my brother, but I don't know his number," I replied. England raised his eyebrows questioningly at me.

"I'm sure I have it somewhere," he said, rubbing his eyes and retreating into his office. He returned with a small, black book. He flipped through the pages then read off a number to me. I dialed the number and nervously held the phone to my ear. The ringtone was cut off as Russia picked up.

"Da?" he answered curtly.

"Big Brother," I said quietly. "I have something I want to ask you."

"Siberia? Okay, we can talk over lunch. I'll pick you up at 11:30 your time."

"Okay," I said, and we hung up.

"Siberia," England said gently, "did you have another nightmare?" I nodded and told him about my dreams as we moved into the kitchen. I toasted some bagels for us while he made tea.

"What did Norway and Romania say yesterday?" I asked, curiosity finally getting the best of me. England remained silent with his back turned to me.

"They didn't know anything really," he said finally. "I'll have to keep researching."

"Can I help?"

"No, you'd better leave it to me. You just focus on winning the bet."

"Okay."

We ate breakfast in silence. Afterwards, England retreated to his office once again. I found a dry rag and went around the house dusting. By the time I was done with that, it was only 6:57. I searched for a broom and, having found one, swept the floors for about half an hour. I then finished reading my book and decided I never wanted to hear about the Church of England ever again. However, it was 11:20, so I went to brush my hair again. I told England through the door to his office when Russia arrived to pick me up then left the house.

"Hello, Little Sister," Russia said when I got in his car. "You do not look so good."

"I haven't been sleeping well lately," I admitted.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said sincerely.

We drove to a pub for lunch and sat at a secluded table in the corner. When our food arrived, I began.

"I've been having these dreams…" I said.

"Dreams?"

"Yes, well, I guess you could call them 'nightmares.' But in reality, they feel more like…memories."

"I see," he said, leaning forward. "And what are these dreams about?"

"Various incidences in our history. The February Revolution, Operation Barbarossa, things like that."

"And you wanted to ask me if they are accurate?" he asked.

"No, I know they're accurate. It's just that I noticed today that I have scars that reflect them. Scars that I'm sure match yours."

"Okay, what did you want to ask?"

"Well, one of my dreams made me wonder: of all of these scars, how many were self-inflicted?" Russia smiled widely. "Quite a few. But I'm sure you already knew that. I'm also sure you understand my reasons." I nodded in response.

"It's a different part of me that understands than the one speaking to you, but yes, I understand."

"Do you really?"

"I feel the same loneliness as you." Russia looked taken aback. We ate in silence for a while.

"Is that the only kind of clothing you have?" he asked finally, gesturing to my dress.

"Yes," I said. "I don't have any clothes of my own, only old clothes from Belarus."

"We'll have to fix that," he said, pulling his phone out. "Excuse me." He stepped outside of the pub to make a call.

"Who did you call?" I asked when he returned.

"Belarus," he answered with a smile. "She is going to take you shopping for new clothes when we finish eating." I dropped my fork, and it clattered to the floor.

"You're cruel," I whispered.

"Don't you want new clothes?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Not that badly," I grumbled.

"Don't be such a child, Siberia. What did you expect? That we would find some sort of camaraderie, and I'd drop the bet? You're still dangerous, and if nothing else you've reassured me of that."

I looked down at my nearly empty plate, feeling like a scolded child. I should have known he'd be unsympathetic. After all, this was the man who wanted to send me to my death. I felt the anger rise up in me.

_"Don't act like you're any less dangerous than me, Brother Dear."_

Our eyes met, and his widened in surprise. My vision was flashing red, so I'm sure my eyes were doing the same. I took a deep breath and got my temper under control. We finished eating in silence, then Russia paid for the meal. We exited the pub to find Belarus sitting in her car in the parking lot.

"Oh, good, you're here already," Russia said to her happily.

"Anything for you, Big Brother," she said, and Russia's smile slipped.

"Have fun, Little Sisters," he said, forcing his smile back onto his face. I rolled my eyes and climbed into the passenger side of Belarus's car. She pulled out of the parking lot, glaring at me.

"I thought you were gone for good," she sneered.

"If you help me out, I will be gone. I won't live in Russia's house anymore."

"Yeah, right," she snorted. "Big Brother told me what's going on. He told me that if you fail, we'll really be rid of you for good."

"Then I assume he told you that I'm Russia, too?" I prompted, trying a different approach.

"You're not going to fool me with that," she snapped. "You may be Russia in your world, but here you're just Siberia."

I fell silent, accepting my fate. We drove into central London, an amazing feat considering the traffic, but Belarus was just as aggressive while driving. We parked the car, and I followed her to a clothing store, preparing myself for battle.

* * *

"I am not putting on that dress," I protested as Belarus held out a pink dress with gold crosses. Something about it disgusted me. Belarus rolled her eyes and placed it on top of the large pile of clothes I carried.

"Just try it on," she ordered. She led me to the dressing rooms and shoved me into one. "And hurry up! I haven't got all day!"

I peeled off my gray dress and slipped on a navy blue sweater dress. It fit well enough, and it was certainly nicer than the other dresses I had. I took it off and set it aside. I tried on pants for the first time and threw them in the corner of the dressing room as the "reject" pile. Most of the outfits Belarus had picked out for me joined the pants in the reject pile. I deemed a few dresses similar to the sweater dress suitable. They were dark purple, dark red, and dark green. When I had tried on almost all of the clothing, I opened the door to the dressing room.

"Did you try them all on?" Belarus asked.

"Everything but that pink thing," I replied.

"Try that one on."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"But I don't want to."

"Don't be such a child, Siberia. Just try it on. I want to see it."

"Why does everyone keep calling me a child? I'm not a child!"

"You're acting like one. Now get back in there, and try that dress on."

I slammed the dressing room door shut, fuming. I yanked my dress off once again and slipped on the pink dress. It felt strange to see myself in it. It fit perfectly, but it didn't feel right. It looked really familiar, but it also felt very foreign. All I knew was that I did not belong in it. In the mirror, I saw my eyes flash red. I clenched my fists. I couldn't figure out why, but I really hated that dress.

"What is taking you so long?" Belarus asked, barging into my dressing room. My vision went red as I looked at her.

_"Get out."_

"Or what?" she sneered. She pulled out her knife and waved it at me casually. "You'll hurt me? Kill me? I'd like to see you try."

I grabbed the blade in her hand, and she pulled it back, cutting my palm. That only served to fuel my bloodlust.

_"He doesn't love you, you know," _I hissed, taking a step towards her. I looked right into her glaring eyes and smiled. _"I would know; I am him after all."_

She frowned deeply. "I forgot how annoying you are when you get like this." She pressed the knife to my face, and I smiled wider. I felt the blade cut into my cheek, but I didn't care. She rolled her eyes and hit me over the head with the handle of the blade. My vision went blurry, and I felt the bloodlust fade as I slumped to the floor.

* * *

_It is winter again, and I am all alone. Snow swirls around my house as if to mock me. I open the window to scream at it, and the wind screams back. I can't close the window now. Of course. I sit down at the table and try to ignore the bitter cold rushing into the house._

* * *

I woke up in the backseat of Belarus's car with a splitting headache. My stomach churned violently. I carefully pulled myself up into a sitting position and registered that the car was moving.

"Pull over," I groaned to Belarus. She glanced backwards at me and quickly came to a stop on the side of the highway. I opened the door and heaved the contents of my lunch onto the road.

"You'd better not get any of that in my car," Belarus grumbled.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and realized that I was still wearing the pink dress. It had bloody hand prints on it, and I remembered that my hand had been cut. Then I registered the throbbing pain in my palm. However, the throbbing in my head still hadn't gone away, and I soon blacked out again after getting back into the car.

* * *

_On the third day of the snowstorm, I decide to venture out in search of civilization. Or even just one person to appease my loneliness. But when I open the door, two feet of snow fall into the house. Now I can't close the door or the window. Great. I casually wonder to myself what would happen if I set my house on fire. Would the snow snuff it out? Would the roof collapse, trapping me in? Would I die?_

* * *

"Siberia? Little Sister?" said a voice, calling me back from the black void. The light hurts my eyes when I attempt to open them. Russia looks down at me in concern. Why concern? He carefully lifts me out of the car and carries me into a house. England's? Yes, it was England's house, because I was set down on the sofa in the parlor.

"Did…did I lose?" I asked Russia quietly, thinking of the damage that was done to the dress. Had I done any other damage? I couldn't remember.

"No,_ you_ haven't done anything to warrant losing," England said quickly, glaring at Belarus. Where did she come from? "I'll go get the first aid kit." England went into the bathroom.

"What are you doing here, Brother?"

"I came to have a chat with England," Russia replied, and England returned with the first aid kit. "Would you like some water, Little Sister?" I nodded.

Russia went to the kitchen as England began cleaning the cut on my hand, and I winced at the sting from the peroxide. Belarus left in a huff.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, wrapping the cut in bandages.

"I almost lost," I said, and he nodded.

"But you didn't," he remarked. He started to clean the cut on my cheek. "Does your head hurt?"

"Yeah, but I'll be fine. I think I only passed out, because I had lost control." Russia came back with a glass of water. England stuck a band aid on my cheek then silently left the room.

"I am sorry that Belarus hurt you," Russia said, handing me the glass.

"If I remember correctly, I did this to myself," I said, shrugging. I sat up and took a drink. My head was starting to hurt less, so I could think more clearly. "You were right, though. I was being childish. I think I understand why you're doing this, now. It was silly of me to think you would find me less of a threat if I was you. After all, as long as I'm here, I am Siberia. I'm going to stop trying to prove I'm you and try harder to prove I'm not dangerous." Russia gingerly placed a hand on top of my head.

"Belarus must have hit you hard," he said, smiling kindly.

"No, I just finally realized that you're not out to kill me." He patted me on the head and turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way, your new clothes are on the table here. You should change out of that pink thing." He chuckled. "It really doesn't suit you."

After he left, I got up to change clothes. I grabbed a random dress out of the bag and headed to the bathroom. I gasped when I looked in the mirror. I leaned in closer and examined my eyes. Somewhere within the dull blue, a bright red was emerging. It was as if a fire was burning in the distance. Were my eyes changing back to red?


	15. The Third Day

__Siberia's been working hard, so let's give her a break, shall we? Here's another long chapter for you guys. Enjoy!

* * *

_ Everyone has a cold but me. It is disgusting to hear them all sniffling at the world meeting. They all hurl insults at America, and she glares back defiantly through her fever._

_ "Aren't you going to say anything, Russia?" France asks me._

_ "Oh, I don't have a cold," I say, smiling. "Now that I'm communist, I'm not affected by that idiot's failing economy. But it is fun to watch you all suffer."_

* * *

"Siberia?" said England, opening my door slowly. I rolled over and looked at him in confusion. "The phone is for you." He handed the telephone to me, and I held it to my ear.

"Привет?" I mumbled.

"Huh? Siberia? It's me," said a happy but confused voice from the other side.

"Дания? Что вам нужно?"

"Uh, heh, my Russian is a little rusty. Do you think you could speak in English?"

"Huh?" I shook myself. England eyed me suspiciously. "Sorry, Denmark. What is it?"

"Norway told me that England's probably been ignoring you. I don't have any work to do today, so I thought we could hang out!"

"Keeping me out of trouble?" I asked, wondering why Norway would want him to hang out with me.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Anyways, I got America to take the day off, too, and Prussia's always free. Iceland is too busy today, though." Oh, so that was the catch.

"Sure, I'd love to."

"Awesome! I'll pick you up at 10, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

We hung up, and I looked up at England. He looked back at me, scrutinizing.

"Did you have another nightmare?" he asked. I nodded.

"Every time I go to sleep now, even when I blacked out yesterday, I have nightmares." His eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and he nodded. "You know something, I can tell. What's happening to me?"

"I'm not sure, Siberia," he sighed. "And I don't want to worry you until I know for sure." He narrowed his eyes at me. "Do you…look different?"

I avoided his eyes, checking the clock casually. 8:15. At least I had managed to sleep more than usual, and I felt well rested. I moved to get out of bed, and, being the gentleman he was, England left. I went to look in the mirror. My eyes weren't any redder than the day before, but they definitely weren't all blue anymore. When had this started? What did it mean?

I quickly dressed in a dark red dress, brushed my hair, and went downstairs. I made us some toast while England sipped his tea, studying me.

"Has it gotten easier? Controlling yourself, that is."

"Well, it's more like if I lose control, it's easier to get back under control. And at the meeting the other day, I didn't have to throw up afterwards."

"That's good," he said absently.

We ate in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. When he was finished, he retreated once again to his office. I managed to grab a random book before the door closed. I sat on the couch in the parlor and examined it: _A History of Automobiles. _I resisted the urge to throw it across the room, instead setting it down and hugging my knees to my chest. I felt so lonely. I knew it wasn't England's job to entertain me, but I couldn't help wondering if I was any better off in his house than in Russia's.

My pity party ended when I heard a car horn outside. I looked out the window and saw Denmark's car. I ran out the front door without saying goodbye to England. He would have heard the horn and probably did not want to be disturbed anyway.

"Hey, Siberia!" Denmark called happily as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Hi, Denmark," I replied, smiling weakly.

"How's England?"

"I wouldn't really know."

"I kind of figured that was the case, but I'm sure he doesn't mean to be so distant."

"I know, but he won't tell me anything. He said he doesn't want to worry me."

"Hmm, that's strange."

"Do you know anything?"

"No, Norge said he's not sure of anything."

"That's what England said, too."

"Then let's not worry about it. Let's just have fun today, okay?"

"Okay." I tried to smile again. We took that ferry to France then drove up into Germany where we picked up Prussia.

"Hey there, Siberia," he said, grinning. "How's it going?"

"Hey, Prussia," I said, trying to match his grin. We continued driving north until we arrived at Denmark's house. There was already another car in the driveway. America climbed out of it.

"You guys are so slow!" he yelled, smiling widely.

"Sorry, I had to drive all over Europe!" Denmark retorted.

"And I had to fly across the world!" America saw me, and his face softened. "Siberia! Have you gotten skinnier? Don't tell me England hasn't been feeding you."

"Well, it's not like he cooks," I said, smiling sheepishly.

"Let's go inside, and I can make us some lunch," Denmark said. He unlocked the door, and we entered the house. I was struck by how empty it felt without the rest of the Nordics around. It reminded me of England's house, and if I thought about it, Russia's house.

America and Prussia plopped down on the couch in the living room, and I followed Denmark into the kitchen.

"You gonna help me?" he asked, and I nodded.

"I kind of want to learn how to cook. I only know how to make toast."

"Well, I'm better at baking than cooking, but I can teach you a few things later. I'm not really cooking anything for lunch." He grabbed bread out of the pantry, then went to the refrigerator and pulled out some cold cuts and cheese spread. "I would be surprised if even England managed to mess up smørrebrød. You're welcome to grab anything you want on yours, but I'm not making anything special for those two."

I watched as he spread some cheese over the bread then placed a couple slices of meat on top. He did this a second time on another plate.

"Hey, do you guys want food or not?" he called out to Prussia and America, who came to retrieve their plates.

"Dude, I don't understand why you can't put another piece of bread on top. And what's with this bread anyway?" America whined.

"I've told you before, it's an open sandwich. And this is _real_ bread, not like that airy, bleached bread you have. Now, if you're going to complain, you should've brought your own food." America grudgingly grabbed the sandwich and bit into it.

"Kesese, it's not so bad, is it?" Prussia laughed. America stuck out his tongue in response, showing us all his half-chewed bite.

"Try this, Siberia," Denmark said, handing me a plate with a sandwich on it. It was stacked with slices of pickled herring, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese.

"How come she gets a real sandwich?" America whined.

"She's the one that could use some extra weight," Denmark replied dryly. I took a bite of the smørrebrød and smiled.

"It's good," I said after swallowing the bite.

"Of course it is!" he said, handing me a beer from the fridge.

When we were finished eating, we all piled onto the couch to play video games. I lost at a racing game, a fighting game, and a shooting game before America started teasing me.

"You really suck at games," he laughed. "You're like stuck in Soviet times, or something."

"At least I'm not a Capitalist pig like you," I countered, smiling.

"Hah, what does that make Prussia and me?" Denmark asked happily.

"Socialist," America replied with a disgusted face, "and another Soviet."

"Bah, you're just jealous you're not as awesome as me!" Prussia argued.

"I'm going to go make us some snacks," Denmark said, interrupting our intense stare-downs. "Do you want to help me, Siberia?" I nodded and followed him once again to the kitchen. He pulled a plate of dough out of the refrigerator. "I made this this morning. It's pretty easy to make; it just takes a while to let it rise."

He showed me how to make a chocolate filling. I spread it on the dough and rolled it into pastries while he told me about the different kinds of fillings. We put them in the oven, and he wrote down some recipes for me while they baked. America and Prussia joined us in the kitchen, and we all drank some more beer.

I felt at ease, and that made me really happy. Prussia and Denmark teased me about being short, and America made more Soviet jokes. For once it didn't bother me to laugh about the past a little. When the pastries were done, we watched a movie about zombies. The three of them bickered the entire time over the best way to survive a zombie attack. Then it was time to go home.

Denmark packed up the remaining pastries for me. "I know you won't get anything this good at England's house," he said, smiling.

We said goodbye to America, who would drive his rental car back to the airport, and we drove away. We drove back down into Germany to drop Prussia off. He gave me an awkward hug from the backseat.

"Good luck, Siberia," he said, getting out of the car and entering his brother's house. We drove into France again and took the ferry to England.

We were surprised to find another car in the driveway when we pulled up to England's house.

"Do you recognize that car?" I asked Denmark, wondering if it was Norway's or Romania's.

"No, I don't," he replied. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No, I'll be okay. Thank you for today."

"No problem! Remember to call if you need anything, and don't let that Brit ignore you all the time!" I smiled at him then got out of the car. I hesitantly walked to the door and opened it slowly. There were minimal lights on in the hallway, giving off an eerie feeling.

"Hello?" I called out, seeing and hearing no one. Suddenly, someone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down the hallway. "Wha—?"

"Shh, he'll hear you," England whispered, pulling me into his darkened office.

"Who's he?" I asked in a hushed voice. "Why are we hiding?" My adrenaline spiked, and if it weren't for the beer I had drunk I probably would have lost control out of self-preservation.

"If we're quiet, maybe he'll just go away."

"Aww, do ye really think ye can rid of yer big brother that easily?" drawled a voice from the doorway. The stranger flicked on the lights, revealing himself to be a tall man with angry, red hair and familiarly thick eyebrows. A lit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

"Big brother?" I asked England, calming down a little.

"Hasn't he mentioned me? Well, he hasn't mentioned ye either, sweetheart." He looked at England. "Ye haven't taken in a new colony, have ye?"

"No, this is Siberia," England replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She is Russia's, er, little sister."

"Ah, I've heard of ye. Nice to meet ye, I'm Scotland."

"You've heard of me?" I asked shyly.

"Of course." He turned to England. "Ye didn't think ye could keep this from me for fifty years, did ye?"

"Ah, well, how did you find out?" England asked.

"Yer friend, Norway, told me when he gave ye the spell. And when ye didn't show up to our meetin' today, I called him. He said ye were probably caught up in research. So the spell didn't go so well for ye?"

"It worked just fine! I'm just not sure what's happening now."

Scotland glared at him. "I think ye know exactly what's happenin' to her." He smirked at me. "Did ye know my little brother knows almost nothin' about souls?"

"He knows more than me," I said, feeling a bit lost. "And I'm here now, so he must have done something right."

"I like ye," Scotland said, chuckling. "So, what're yer symptoms?"

"Huh?" I blushed. I couldn't quite understand him.

"What's wrong with ye that my stupid little brother has to research?"

"Oh, well I've been having nightmares that are more like memories."

"That's obvious then. Yer old soul has only been repressed, and now it's comin' back." He turned back to England. "Did ye try to pretend they were just dreams?"

"I wanted to make certain before I told her anything." England glared back at Scotland. My mind was reeling from what he had just told me. My old soul? What did that even mean?

"Bullshit. Ye may be an idiot, but yer not that stupid. Even if ye haven't known all along, ye can see it in her eyes." Wait, what? I tried to catch England's eye, but he wouldn't look at me.

"What can I do?" I asked Scotland, who was a whole lot freer with information than England would be. "I have to stay in control for four more days."

"Well," he begun, puffing on his cigarette. "I can do a stasis spell on ye, then I could try to reverse the process at the end of the week."

"No, no magic," England said. "I gave Russia my word that I wouldn't help her with magic." Scotland stared at him, wide eyed.

"Ye gave yer word? Well, excuse me. This poor lass could die because of yer shitty spell, but ye gave yer word not to help her."

"It's not like that!" England protested.

"The hell it's not! Explain to me how this _isn't_ about yer fuckin' honor!"

"Um, Scot…" England looked at me nervously.

"I'm fine, England," I said, grateful for all the beer I drank at Denmark's house. But I did walk out of the office, not wanted to hear them yell at each other. I walked into the kitchen and set the box of pastries on the counter.

"What are those?" England asked quietly, following me into the kitchen.

"Pastries that Denmark and I made."

"How about I make some tea to go with those?" I nodded, trying to smile a little.

"So why did ye, skip our meetin'?" Scotland asked, obviously making an effort to be calm. It made him easier to understand.

"I completely forgot that was today," England admitted.

"Heh, if I forgot, ye'd give me hell."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"Whatever. I'm stayin' here tonight."

"Of course you are," England sighed.

"Ye didn't give the little lass my old room, did ye?"

"No, she's in America's old room."

"Ah, ye got the best room." He winked at me, and I smiled back. Things could be a whole lot more interesting if he stuck around.

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I'm sorry for the Google Translate Russian. If you know it's wrong, please let me know, because I have no idea! Also, please let me know if Scotland's accent was too much. I'm excited to bring him into the story! Anyways, please **review**; it would really help me out.


	16. The Fourth Day

Edit: Wales is now in this chapter. Sorry about that! Please review!

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_The cool wind blows my hair back. Even though we are in __Hamina, in Southern Finland, I can tell winter is coming. Finland glares at me, and I smile back. She didn't like living with Sweden, but I'm sure she'll like living with me._

_ "You'll have lots of friends in my house," I say as sweetly as I can. She doesn't reply._

_ "Ya promise ya'll talk t' D'nmark?" Sweden asks sternly._

_ "Yes, yes, I'll tell her to give you Norway," I assure her for the third time. "Do we have a deal?" It's not a question; she's not in any position to argue. I stick my hand out, and she takes it hesitantly._

_ "Yeah, deal."_

I jolted awake. Another dream. I looked at the clock. It was 5:45, but I decided to get up anyway. Finland's voice echoed in my head:_ "Did you know I used to live at Russia's house_?" I thought of all the countries that used to live in Russia's house, especially during the Soviet Union. Does that mean they lived in my house in my world? My dreams told me that history was basically the same in my world, so I would assume so. But then again, I wasn't there during Soviet times. Who was taking care of things there?

I put on a dark green dress and brushed my hair. I examined my eyes to see if they had changed. It almost looked like the red was brighter, closer, but I couldn't tell. I carefully opened the door and left my room. Before I got to the stairs, I heard a voice from down the hall.

"Where are ye going?" Scotland said, poking his head into the hallway.

I jumped in surprise and looked towards England's room. Scotland rubbed his eyes.

"He won't wake up that easily. Where are ye going?"

"I, uh, had another dream, so I thought I'd just get up," I said quietly, looking down at my feet. He stared at me for a while before he seemed to come to a decision.

"Meet me out back in 10 minutes." He disappeared back into his room. I continued down the stairs, slightly confused and very curious. I opened the back door and walked outside. It was cold, dark, and damp, but I didn't mind. It cleared my head and fully woke me up.

A few minutes later, a fully dressed Scotland joined me with a large tome. I vaguely wondered if he had grabbed England's or if he had the foresight to bring his own. "I don't care what my stupid little brother promised. I haven't promised anything, so I'm gonna help ye."

"Why?" I asked, then realized I sounded rude. "Um, well, I mean, people I've known for years are unwilling to help me, and we've just met…"

"Would ye believe I'm as noble as England?" he asked, running a hand through his fiery hair.

"No," I replied simply. The only reason England had helped me was because Lithuania had asked him to.

"Well, ye're probably gonna hate me for this, but I'm kinda cleanin' up his mistake."

"No, I understand." I still called myself a monster from time to time; "mistake" was not that bad. "I wouldn't agree that this is England's fault, though. He didn't expect my old soul to still exist."

"But he should've," Scotland said sternly. "It takes a helluva lotta magic to destroy a soul. It doesn't just happen by accident. Suppressin' one is fairly easy."

"Can you do that?"

"I could, but it'd be risky, and I don't have time to be super careful. This stasis spell is our best option until the bet is over."

"Okay, I'm ready."

Scotland began to chant words I didn't understand. The words seemed to lift right off the pages of the book and encircle me. I felt warmer as the letters lit up. Then it was over, and the words and warmth faded. Scotland stopped chanting and nodded, signaling he was done.

"I don't feel any different," I said.

"Ye shouldn't," he replied. The sun was rising when we went back inside. England was still sleeping, so Scotland made tea.

"Do you think I could do magic?" I asked. "Since my brother can."

"Probably, but it's completely different from my magic. I'm actually surprised he brought ye over. I always thought he just did curses."

"I don't think he really knew what he was doing," mumbled England as he entered the kitchen. He looked sleepy still.

"G'mornin', sunshine," Scotland said snidely. "I made tea."

"Oh, you're still here," England drawled, pouring himself a cup. Scotland smirked as he took a sip then promptly spat it into the sink. "Was it really necessary to put alcohol in it?"

"Just to see yer face," Scotland laughed then took a gulp out of his own cup. I snickered, and he glanced at me. "Want a cup, sweetheart?"

"Sure," I said happily. I poured myself a cup and sipped it. It was stronger than I expected but still nothing compared to Russian vodka. Scotland laughed again.

"I like ye. Can I trade ye with that one?"

"Hey! Just because it's too early for _normal_ people to start drinking—!"

"Aww, calm down, ye bloody idiot! I was only jokin'!" I laughed at the two of them and grabbed a pastry. Scotland quickly grabbed the last one, so I put some bread in the toaster for England.

"Can you cook?" I asked Scotland.

"Not hardly," he snorted in response. "Though I can make my own toast." England harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hey, idiot."

"I'm not responding to that."

"Take the day off work today."

"Why?"

"Because ye still owe us a United Kingdom meetin'."

"Oh, fine. Will you be okay here by yourself, Siberia?"

"Oh, no, bring her along. I'm sure the others'd like to meet her."

"'The others?'" I asked.

"Wales and North Ireland," England replied. "The other countries of the United Kingdom."

"Ireland'll be there, too, if ye bring along Siberia."

"Oh, I've been meaning to speak to her." England looked at me. "You don't have to come."

"Oh, no, I want to," I said. "What else would I do?"

"That's the spirit!" Scotland laughed. "I'll go call 'em." He walked out of the kitchen, and England looked at me seriously.

"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked quietly.

"I'll be fine, especially if I keep drinking this tea," I said happily.

"Yeah, that's Scotty for you." He smiled tiredly, but there was something more. "_Try to understand, Siberia, he's probably just concerned for his family."_ Ah, so it seemed no one really trusted me. I tried to find comfort in the fact that Scotland had "fixed" me, but I still didn't feel any of the spell's effects. Whatever he had done, it wouldn't stop me if I lost control. My mouth went dry, making it difficult to swallow the bite of pastry I had just taken. I decided I was done eating and continued to sip my tea.

"It's settled," Scotland said, entering the kitchen again. "We're meetin' in Belfast in an hour."

"An hour?" England exclaimed.

"Yeah, we're nations. It won't take us long to get there."

"But I'm not even prepared!"

"Well, tough shit. Ye were s'posed to be ready yesterday."

"Fine, I'll do what I can."

Just then, we heard the front door open. Scotland and I looked at England, who shrugged his shoulders. Scotland quietly crept out of the kitchen and down the hall. We heard a shout, so he ran to join him. He stood in the foyer holding up a small boy who looked familiar to me. Then I remembered I had met him at the world conference.

"Sealand?" I asked.

"Put me down!" he yelled. Scotland dropped him, and he fell to the floor.

"What the hell are ye doin' here?" he growled.

"The Adorable Sealand has come to visit!" Sealand announced, picking himself off the floor. "Will you recognize me as a country?"

"Hell no," Scotland scoffed.

"Isn't it coincidental that he shows up right as we're about to leave for the meeting?" England asked Scotland.

"Well, don't look at me. I didn't call him!"

"Are you sure? Because it would be more than a prank at this point." He glanced over at me, and I felt my face burn. I looked down at my feet. He definitely didn't trust me around his family.

"You're having a meeting? I'm coming, too!" Sealand chimed in.

"No, you are most certainly not."

"Aww, I bet Siberia gets to go! Why can't I come?"

"You can't. Now go home."

"No! I want to come!"

"Alright, listen!" Scotland interjected. "Ye can come, but ye can't say anythin', alright? Ye don't say anythin' about bein' recognized as a country, ye just sit there quietly. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

By the time England had gathered his things, I was feeling angry. Actually, I was fuming. If it weren't for the spiked tea I had drunk, I would probably have lost control. I thought he had trusted me, but I guess that only applied to people he didn't care about. _"I wouldn't be helping you if I didn't."_ Bullshit. It's not like he was helping me much in the first place.

Sealand, England, and I got into his car, and Scotland took his own. Sealand took the front seat, so I tried to calm myself down in the backseat before the alcohol wore off. I thought about the fun I had had the day before at Denmark's house. Denmark trusted me, but maybe that was because he didn't fully understand. Not even Prussia trusted me completely, and he had been helping me all along. I felt a tear rolled down my face, so I squeezed my eyes shut.

I had to toughen up. Of course people wouldn't trust me. Belarus had known all along how people would react if they knew what I was. A monster. Until I was fully "fixed," I would always be a monster.

We followed Scotland across the island to Wales then took a ferry to Ireland. Then we drove up into Northern Ireland. Sealand pointed things out to me along the way, but I didn't pay attention. I wished I could talk to Canada again. He was so nice and calm. I wished I could be like that. Before I knew it, we had arrived in Belfast. We pulled up to what Sealand said was North Ireland's house, and I found myself feeling nervous. I took a deep breath and tried to get my emotions under control as I got out of the car. I followed England, Scotland, and Sealand into the house.

"Ah, ye brought her along!" said a happy girl with thick eyebrows, bright orange hair, emerald green eyes, and freckles on her face.

"Of course, I said I would," Scotland said, scooping her up into a hug. They spun around, laughing happily.

"Sealand! Ye're here, too?" she asked after he released her. She run up to Sealand and pinched his cheeks. He wriggled away from her, but I saw a small smile on his face. "Siberia," she said, turning to me. "I'm the Republic of Ireland, but ye can call me Ireland." She hugged me tightly, catching me off guard. "I'm so happy to meet ye! Prussia's told me all about ye!"

"Prussia has?" I asked, feeling winded. She released me from the hug.

"Yeah! He told me ye can outdrink Russia! We'll have to see if ye can beat me!"

"Be careful, sis, she drank my 'special tea' this mornin' with no problem," Scotland laughed.

"Really? Wow, that's impressive! Where'd North go? He'll be wantin' to meet ye."

"I'm right here." A boy who looked almost exactly like England came out carrying a tray of tea. He had strawberry-blonde hair, bright green eyes, thick eyebrows, and freckles. He put the tray down and extended a hand towards me. "Nice to meet you, I'm Northern Ireland. You can just call me North."

"Um, nice to meet you," I replied, shaking his hand. "I'm Siberia."

"Don't forget about me," said a man sitting on the couch. He had tousled brown hair, blue-green eyes, and the familial thick eyebrows. "I'm Wales. It's nice to meet you."

"I invited Isle of Man, but she said she didn't have to be here," Ireland said.

"Well, no, she doesn't," England said, "and you don't have to be, either."

"But I wanted to come!"

"Yeah, ye just had nothin' better to do," Scotland said snidely. She hit him on the arm.

"The Isle of Man is a girl!" Sealand remarked to me, grinning widely.

"Yeah, an' she gets really sick of all the gender jokes," Ireland said sternly, her hands on her hips. Sealand gulped and mumbled an apology, and Ireland was back to smiling.

We all sat down in the living room with our cups of tea, and they began the meeting. I didn't pay too much attention, since it had nothing to do with me. Instead, I observed how they all acted as a family. Scotland was the older brother to all of them, Ireland was the doting big sister, North was the youngest, and England was the black sheep middle child. It made me smile to watch them pick on each other and laugh together. From what I knew of their histories, they had been through a lot. I'm sure it was hard for England to have had to invade his siblings' lands, but they were still able to be civil with each other. I wanted something like that with my siblings.

After the meeting, Ireland proposed we all go drinking together. England sent Sealand home in a taxi, saying he couldn't drink until he looked at least 18. We took our own taxi to a pub in downtown Belfast. Scotland, Ireland, and England started arguing over whose alcohol was better, so they kept pushing drinks on me to be the judge. I just laughed as they, Wales, and North got progressively more drunk.

England was the lightweight of the four, and he was also the most ridiculous drunk. He swaggered around, calling himself a pirate. "You can't bring me down, I'm the British Empire!" he yelled at one point.

North was the next lightest, and he acted like an angry England when he was drunk. "Would you mind keeping it down?" he yelled at England. "I can't believe you would make a fool of yourself like this in public!"

Ireland was an angry drunk who tried to start fights with everyone. Fortunately, she was too unbalanced to do any harm. She tried to fight with "pirate" England and ended up tripping over her own feet.

Scotland became unintelligible when drunk but also very cuddly. "'Ey, 'ey, can' we all jus' be frien's? Ye guys are mah faaaav'rite siblin's," he slurred, throwing his arms around England and Ireland.

"Rubbish," North said, crossing his arms.

Wales began singing when he got drunk. He walked around the pub, grabbing random people to join in with his drinking songs. Scotland joined in, and they sang loudly and a bit off key.

The pub owner started giving us dirty looks, so North called a taxi. He corralled England, Scotland, and Wales into the car, and I threw a struggling Ireland over my shoulder and carried her out.

"I think you beat her," North said when I got in. "I've never seen anyone outdrink Ireland. I'm a little scared now." I just smiled at him.

England and Ireland passed out on the way back to North's house, but Scotland was beginning to sober up. He helped North carry England into the house, I carried Ireland once again, and Wales staggered after me. I took Ireland to the first guest room that North pointed me towards. England was thrown on the couch, and I was told to take his usual room. It was then that I realized how tired I was, so I trudged to the very last room down the hall and fell asleep on the bed fully dressed.


	17. The Fifth Day

**AN: Wow, I'm really sorry this took so long to publish. You know, blahblahblah finals, blahblahblah wasn't sure how to write this, blahblahblah I'm lazy. But now school's out, so hopefully I can finish this up soon! If you haven't already seen it, I've started a new story called The Tragedy of Youth, and you should check it out. Anyways, blahblahblah enjoy, blahblahblah review!**

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_I am really beginning to hate all of my bosses. I am barely paying attention as this one tells me his Five-Year Plan. It doesn't make any difference to me; he's going to do what he wants without any consideration for me or my opinions. He doesn't care that I'm a nation, and I know a lot more than he does. He claims he is going to turn the economy to socialism in five years. I don't expect it to hurt as much as it does._

_ Everyone is forced to work on collectivist farms, and famine is spreading quickly. I feel hungry all the time, even though I eat enough. My boss takes my grumbling stomach as an insult to all he is trying to do. He barely trusts me, and I know he thinks about locking me away. The Imperialists are all dead; the Old Bolsheviks are all dead. I'm the only one left from the old days, and he hates that._

_ I didn't know changing the economy would hurt me. I thought only my people and my government could hurt me. But then again the changing economy is affecting my people and killing thousands. And there's nothing I can do about it._

_ My house isn't empty anymore. My older and younger brothers now live here as well as Finland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia. But I still feel so lonely. I know they all fear me, and I had hoped we could all get along. I want more nations to come live with me. I want them to fill my house like one big party. I want them all to become a part of Russia…_

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I awoke to the sound of a phone ringing. I looked around and didn't recognize my surroundings. Panic rose in my chest. Had I finally been locked up? My vision went red, and I gripped the sheets tightly. I heard footsteps outside the door then a knock. I didn't answer, and the doorknob turned slowly. The door opened, and a blond man peeked in. He said something, but I didn't understand him. He looked at me with a concerned face and walked to my bed. I reached out to push him away, and he grabbed my hand.

"кто ты?" I snarled. He gave me a surprised look and answered in a language I didn't understand. _Perhaps I should force it out of him._

"Сибирь, это я. Англия," he said. I blinked at him. Англия. England. The red faded away.

"England," I said, the English feeling strange on my tongue. He nodded cautiously. I dropped his hand immediately. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he replied simply.

"I, uh, forgot we slept here. So I freaked out when I woke up, and, well…"

"This isn't the first time you've awoken confused," he said sternly.

"I know." I looked into my lap in shame, thinking of my awkward morning call with Denmark. "I'm sorry."

England sighed. "It's not your fault. Come on, we should be going. Lithuania called me looking for you. I told him you'd call back later."

We walked out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room. I felt like a scolded child; my face felt hot, and tears pricked at my eyes. Scotland, Ireland, and North all sat on the couch drinking tea. "We have to get going," England said quickly.

"It was nice to meet you all," I mumbled to my feet.

"Hold on. What's goin' on?" Ireland asked.

"It's nothing," England answered.

"Nothin', my arse," Scotland scoffed. "Did somethin' happen?"

"Ye can talk to us, England. We're yer family."

England sighed again then looked at me. "Why don't you explain it?" he said to me.

"Well, um, it's like I'm still in my dreams when I wake up, I guess," I said quietly.

"By dreams," Scotland began, "you mean—?"

"Memories." Ireland, Wales, and North nodded in understanding. Scotland must have explained everything to them already.

"Yer eyes," Wales said quietly, "they've changed." Curious, I walked to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and gasped. My eyes were blood red at the bottom, fading to dull blue at the top. They seemed somewhat livelier, in a disturbing way. I walked back out to the living room, keeping my head bowed.

"Well, whaddaya think, Ireland?" Scotland asked, blowing out a breath.

"I think that's one determined soul tryin' to get out," Ireland replied.

"Obviously, your stasis spell didn't work, Scotty," England said. Scotland and I stared wided-eyed at him. He glared back indignantly. "Well, of course I knew about it! Anyway, we don't have much time. We're all going to have to do a reversal spell together."

"What about the no-magic deal?" I asked quietly.

"I don't think either Russia or I anticipated this."

The UK brothers and Ireland began the preparations for the spell. They told me just to sit on the floor and let them take care of it.

"Is it going to hurt?" I asked.

"I hope not," North said. Ireland hit him on the head. "Ow! What?"

"No, it shouldn't hurt," Ireland told me before walking away to grab something.

"Shouldn't," I mumbled to myself. I was afraid of what would happen. What if something went wrong, and my artificial soul was destroyed? I was sure they could make me a new one, but would it be me anymore? Or what if nothing worked, and I had to be sent back?

I didn't pay attention to what they were doing, because I was too busy worrying. I wouldn't have understood any of what was going on anyway. Before I knew it, various objects and ingredients formed a tight circle around my spot on the floor. North, England, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland all stood in a circle around the ingredients, holding hands and chanting words from a large tome.

Similarly to Scotland's spell, the words seemed to come out of the book and encircle me. They lit up, and I felt warm. Except this time, the words spun around me in a counter-clockwise direction. The room spun, and if I hadn't been sitting down, I probably would've fallen over. The reversal spell took a lot longer than the stasis spell. I felt the need to vomit, but the spinning script kept me from moving an inch.

Finally, the words slowed, cooled down, and faded away, but the room continued to spin. I still felt really sick, but instead of throwing up, I blacked out.

* * *

_"Lithuania," I call from my office, knowing she is just outside cleaning. She appears in the doorway._

_ "Yes, Miss Russia?" she replies nervously. I tilt my head and examine her._

_ "Do you hate it here?" I ask finally._

_ "N-no, I don't."_

_ "Don't you miss Poland?"_

_ "Well, y-yes. But it's nice being here with you!" She smiles at me, and I know it's fake. I know she's blatantly lying to me, but I pretend I don't notice._

_ "Good," I say, trying to smile kindly. "If you ever need anything, feel free to ask. We're friends, da?"_

_ "Uh, y-yes." She returns to cleaning. I know she lied again, and that makes me very, _very_ angry._

* * *

I woke up in the back of a car. There was a paper bag next to me, and I grabbed it to throw up into.

"Sounds like you're awake finally," England said drily. "We're almost home."

I sat up to look around and instantly regretted it. I threw up into the bag again. I lay back down as we pulled into the driveway of England's house.

"Sorry, I was going to tell you not to sit up."

"It's okay, I'm used to vomiting all the time," I replied sarcastically.

"Well, you sound a lot better."

"And you sound a lot happier."

"Well, it worked."

"What?"

"Here, I'll show you." He opened the car door for me and helped me out. I threw the bag into the trashcan outside before going into the house. England guided me to the bathroom and had me look into the mirror.

"Woah," I said, my eyes going wide. My plain, dull blue eyes that had no trace of red in them. "It did work." We smiled at each other in relief. "So, no more nightmares?" I asked.

"Nope, no more nightmares," he replied.

"This is great! Now I know I'll win the bet!"

"Speaking of which, you should call Lithuania."

"Oh, right!" I ran over to the telephone, practically giddy. I dialed Lithuania's number and waited as the other line rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Lithuania, you called?"

"Oh, Siberia! Yes, well, Russia said we should have dinner together tonight."

"Russia? So in other words, we're having dinner together tonight?"

"Well, uh, yes." He sounded nervous, and I wondered what was wrong.

"Okay, that's fine with me. Don't you want to have dinner with me?"

"No, it's not that. I told Poland I would eat dinner with him. Russia said that's fine, but…"

"Oh." I never thought much about Poland, but I suppose he was someone I should avoid. After all, I did hurt Lithuania a lot when I was under Russia's control. I also knew from history that Poland and Lithuania used to be united, and he hated Russia for splitting them up.

"I told him to behave himself, but he never listens to me."

"Well, it sounds like we don't have any choice."

"I'm sorry, Siberia."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. What time will we eat?"

"I'll pick you up at 5." I looked at the clock: 11:45.

"Okay." We hung up, and I went to find food for lunch.

* * *

Lithuania picked me up promptly at 5. I hadn't been too concerned earlier, but throughout the day I became more and more nervous. Lithuania seemed nervous, too, as we got into his car.

"We're meeting up with Poland at the restaurant," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to a restaurant in Poland's country. He's generally in a better mood when he's eating his own food."

"Okay." We took the ferry to mainland Europe then drove through France and Germany to get to Poland. "How is my brother?" I asked on the way.

"He's alright, but I think he misses you. For the first time in years, his house is completely empty."

"I miss him, too," I admitted.

"What are you going to do if you win the bet?"

"I think I'll go back to Russia's house. I'll just be able to leave as I please." We chatted a bit more during the drive. I didn't mention my eyes or my old soul. As far as I was concerned, that was just a bad dream that was now in the past.

We pulled up to the restaurant right around 6. When we walked in, we were shown to a table in the back where a small blond man sat.

"Liet!" he said excitedly, jumping up and throwing his arms around Lithuania. "What's up, broski? I have not seen you in, like, forever!"

"Pol, you just saw me at the world meeting," Lithuania said, but he looked happy. "This is Siberia." Poland released him to scrutinize me.

"So, you're the freaky Russia clone that hurt my Liet," he spat. I was surprised at how blunt he was, and his words startled me. "You'd better not have hurt him again, so I swear I'll make Warsaw your capital."

"Pol, it's okay!" Lithuania interrupted as I wondered what kind of threat that was. "It wasn't her fault!"

"Hmph, whatever." We sat down, and I vaguely considered ordering a beer or something to calm myself down.

I wasn't angry when Poland decided to order for all of us. I wasn't angry when he told me how great Polish food was compared to the "Russian plate of yuck" I ate. Strangely, I wasn't angry when he continuously insulted my country. But things got complicated when Lithuania left.

Part way through our meal, Lithuania got a cell and excused himself from the table. Poland watched him walk away then looked me square in the eyes.

"You know, he still has nightmares about what you did to him," he said lowly. His words cut straight through me, and I was shocked at the seriousness in his eyes.

"I-i…"

"No, don't say anything. Just listen for a bit. I hated Russia when he separated me and Liet, and I hate him even more for the fear in Liet's eyes. But I hate you most for his scars. He's tried to convince me that it wasn't you, but I think that's a load of crap. So why don't you try to explain it to me?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking away from him.

"It was me, but it wasn't. I guess you could say it wasn't the person I am now. Not by a long shot. But that doesn't mean it's gone. It's still in me, always scratching to get out…I feel horrible for what I've done to Lithuania, and I don't deserve his kindness."

"At least we agree on that," he huffed.

"But I can't change the past, no matter how hard I want to. So now I'm trying to make up for the damage I've caused."

"By running around with a…monster inside of you? That doesn't make any sense."

"No, you're right. But Lithuania and another good friend have worked hard to make sure I could have a real life. The least I can do is live it."

"Well…" Poland paused, as Lithuania returned to the table. "I can't see how anyone can live in those totes drab clothes you wear. Did a blinded Belarus dress you?"

"No," I said slowly. "These rags are all my choice."

He didn't get any nicer for the rest of the meal, but it seemed like the way Poland looked at me changed ever so slightly. As if just a little of the hate was gone.


	18. The Sixth Day

**AN: I'm so sorry this took so long to write! After this, we only have one day left. I hope you guys are ready for the end :) Please remember to leave a review, and enjoy!**

* * *

I awoke the next day with a strange feeling, like something was missing. Then I realized.

"I didn't have any nightmares," I whispered to myself. I jumped up, threw open my door, and ran down the hallway to England's room. "I didn't have any nightmares!" I yelled. I heard rustling on the inside of the room, and England opened his door a little.

"What is it, Siberia?" he asked sleepily.

"I didn't have any nightmares!" I jumped up and down excitedly.

"That's well and good, but do you have any idea what time it is?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Um, no?"

"It's 3:30 in the morning. Go back to sleep."

* * *

I awoke again after another nightmare-less sleep and made sure to check the time: 6:45. England probably wouldn't be awake yet, so I decided to make a nice breakfast to make up for earlier. Remembering what Poland had said about my fashion sense, I searched my clothes for something less…drab. I found an old dress of Belarus's that was blue with capped sleeves. I put it on and found it was a little short on me, barely covering my knees. I decided to keep it, brushed my hair, and went downstairs to start cooking.

After a few minutes, the phone rang. I quickly went to answer it, so it wouldn't wake England up.

"Hello?" I said quietly.

"Hello, little sister!" answered Russia, sounding surprisingly warm. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks, and you?" I replied cautiously.

"I am great. The three of us would like to meet with you today, perhaps over lunch?"

"By 'the three of us,' do you mean—?"

"—Belarus, Ukraine, and I."

"Um, okay. Am I in trouble?"

"Not at all. It's just that we have not seen you in a few days, and the bet is almost over."

"Okay."

"I will pick you up in two hours."

"Well, you know it's only 7 here, right?"

"Yes, but we will be eating on our side of the continent."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you in two hours, then."

We hung up, and I went back to cooking. A still-sleepy England entered the kitchen.

"Good morning," he mumbled.

"Oh shit, I wanted to surprise you," I said.

"Oh, that's…" He looked up at me. "Did you just say…?" I covered my mouth and giggled.

"Oops, sorry!"

"I think you've been spending too much time with America," he grumbled.

"I'm going out to eat with my siblings today," I said, feeling a little giddy.

"I think you've had more free meals this week than I have had in the past two years." He got up to make tea.

"Maybe people feel sorry for me."

"You shouldn't think that way."

"Well, it's probably true. I wouldn't even be here, if you hadn't felt sorry for me." England sighed, handing me a cup of tea.

"I don't know how you can talk like that so casually. Let's just eat."

* * *

At 9:00 sharp, Russia pulled up in front of the house. I noticed that he was driving a different car than usual, and then I realized.

"We're going to fly, aren't we?" I asked him as I got into the car.

"Yes, we are taking my private jet, as it is much faster than driving," he said.

"Does everyone have their own jet?" I asked, feeling my nerves spike.

"For the most part, yes. They are a lot more convenient than scheduling flights."

He didn't notice my nervousness until we got to the airport. Even though I had survived my first flight with England, there had been complications. I also felt extra nervous, since I hadn't lost control in a few days. Who knew what would happen if I was pushed too far?

"Is something wrong, little sister?" Russia asked when we parked. "Oh, you have never ridden in an airplane before, have you?"

"Well, I did to get to England's house, but that was the first time," I said, eying the plane suspiciously.

"Do not worry, Siberia." He opened the door for me, and we walked towards the plane.

"I'll try not to…"

We took the stairs up to get into the plane and took our seats. I shakily buckled my seat belt, taking deep breaths to try to calm myself. Russia reached over and grabbed my hand. I gave him an uneasy smile, and he gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"You're not going to try to…set me off?" I asked quietly as the plane began to taxi down the runway.

"No," he replied. "That would be far too dangerous. Besides, you've made it this far. I am not trying to stop you anymore."

"Oh." I didn't say anymore, as we were taking off. His words made me feel a lot calmer, but I was still nervous enough to squeeze his hand back.

The flight seemed a lot shorter than the first time. We didn't speak much, and I looked out the window most of the time. But we held hands the entire time, and it made me really happy to fly over the Russian landscape again.

Ukraine and Belarus were already at Russia's house making lunch. The smell of stew and potatoes permeated the house. It felt really strange to be back after almost seven days, when I had never been out of that house for more than a few hours. I hadn't realized how much I had missed being home. I followed my brother into the kitchen and greeted my sisters.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"We're almost done with the preparations," Ukraine answered, "but you can set the table." Belarus snickered, and I sighed.

I grabbed the plates out of the cupboard and the silverware out of the drawer and placed them on the table. Soon, we all sat down to eat at the table that was big enough for at least twice the amount of people. It felt empty, but it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. England's house felt very similar.

"It's been so long since we all sat down to eat together like this," Russia said happily.

"It's good to be back here," I said quietly. "How have you been here by yourself, brother?"

"I have been doing well, little sister," he said, a hint of sadness penetrating his smile. "It is not the same here without you."

We ate the first two courses in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. I didn't know why I had asked; I knew better than anyone how lonely he could get. Asking him about it was like throwing his loneliness in his face and laughing about it. Finally, before dessert, I broke the silence.

"What did you want to speak with me about?" I asked as Belarus brought out the_ kompot_ and cake.

"Oh, yes," Russia said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "We wanted to talk to you about what you're planning to do next."

"Next? You mean after the bet is over? If I win?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to come back here, if that's alright." I hadn't really thought about it before, but there wasn't another answer. This was my home, and I didn't want to impose on England anymore. This was the only place I belonged.

"That is fine with me," Russia said, smiling.

"I don't understand why she gets to live here," Belarus huffed. "Maybe I want to move back."

"I don't think your boss would like that, Bela," Ukraine said, smiling nervously. "Just be glad you don't have to deal with a boss, Siberia."

"Not after I win this bet, that is," I said. "But I suppose we should talk a bit about what would happen if I don't win…"

"I will send you back myself," Russia said quickly. "I am prepared to, if it is needed."

"Okay." I swallowed the lump in my throat. Of course, he had to be prepared, just in case.

So it was settled. After tomorrow, the last day of the bet, I would be coming home.


	19. The Seventh Day

I awoke the next morning feeling tired and irritable, but I wasn't sure why. Maybe after such an eventful week I was mentally exhausted. Maybe I had just had too many nights of terrible sleep. Either way, I tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, England had other plans.

"Siberia, wake up," he called, knocking on the door. "It's almost 10:30; you should really get up."

"Don' wanna," I mumbled into my pillow. England opened the door and entered my room.

"You know it's the last day, don't you?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I have a surprise for you."

"I don't like surprises."

"I think you'll like this one. Now, come on, get up. I've got tea downstairs." He left the room, closing the door behind him. I slowly dragged myself out of bed. It was true, I didn't like surprises. The few that I had ever gotten had not turned out to be good. Besides which, surprises meant I couldn't prepare myself in case whatever it was could set me off.

I got up, dressed, and went downstairs. England smiled at me from the table as he took a bite of disgustingly-burned toast.

"You know, for it being the last day of the bet, one would think you would be happier," he commented.

"I'm just tired," I replied.

"Well, you only have to make it through today." I noticed a shopping bag on the floor by England's feet.

"Is that the surprise?" I asked.

"No, well, it's part of it. And no, you don't get to see it yet."

"Can you tell me anything, so I can prepare?"

"Well, I can tell you that we're going to take a plane. So you'd better prepare yourself for that."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not telling." England smiled coyly. I took a sip of tea and promptly spat it out. "What the bloody hell was that for?!"

"Did you make the tea differently this morning?" I asked, grabbing a glass of water. I swished it in my mouth and spat it into the sink.

"No, I didn't."

"Well, it tastes disgusting today."

"Well…" England huffed. "Why don't you just go get ready?"

"I am ready."

"Fine, let's go."

We drove out to the airport, and England grumbled the entire way about me being "ornery and rude." I didn't feel nervous at all when we got on the plane, but I still felt exhausted. I fell asleep almost as soon as we sat down, and thankfully, I didn't have any dreams. England woke me up as we were landing, and I looked out the window groggily. The sun was shining brightly, a stark contrast to the weather at England's home.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Italy," he replied. We stepped off the plane and into the sunshine. I grimaced slightly as the bright light shone in my eyes. My head was starting to hurt.

"What are we doing here?"

"Your friends planned something for you." England smiled slightly at me as he held the door of his rental car open for me.

"Friends?" Did I have friends?

"Denmark, America, and Prussia." England got in his side of the car and began to drive.

"Oh. Is this for the end of the bet?"

"Yes, I believe so."

After about 15 minutes of driving, England parked in front of a small, tin building.

"Is that…a restroom?" I asked, squinting to make out the shapes on the two doors.

"Yes." He finally handed me the paper bag. "This is from your sisters. Don't look until you get inside."

"Okay…" I took the bag from him, got out of the car, and walked to the restroom.

It was pretty small inside, with only two stalls and two sinks that were connected by a long counter. I checked my eyes in the long mirror above the sinks: still blue. At least I had that going for me. I opened the bag and looked inside. It contained an old swimsuit of Belarus's, at least that's what it looked like. It was a simple navy blue one-piece, but it fit when I put it on. I exited the restroom on the other side and gasped at what I saw.

Sand. Sand everywhere. And water extending out as far as I could see. The sun beat down on me, warming my skin in an almost uncomfortable way. The sand was hot under my feet, and I halfway stepped back into the restroom. Denmark came running up to me wearing only red swimming shorts.

"Siberia! Welcome to the beach!" he called happily. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back out into the sun. "I remembered that you had never seen a beach, so I thought it was the perfect way to celebrate your victory!"

"The bet isn't over yet," I mumbled, cringing at the feeling of sand shifting under my feet. Was this supposed to be enjoyable?

"It might as well be. Come on, we invited everyone!"

"Everyone?" I looked around and realized that the beach was littered with countries. Not every country had shown up, but I could believe that he had invited everyone who was friendly. "How did you manage to organize this?" I asked, astonished.

"Give me some credit, I can organize things! Okay, and I had some help from America and Prussia."

"Thank you, Denmark." I wasn't sure what else to say. I was grateful for the effort they had made, but I wasn't really in the mood to enjoy the party.

"No problem! Hey, let's go in the water."

He pulled me towards the water, and I stumbled a few times as my feet sunk into the sand.

"It's really hot," I said, referring to said foot-devouring sand.

"It'll be better when you get in the water."

The water was not much fun either. I couldn't swim, and Denmark had no desire to stay in the shallow water with me. I discovered the meaning of "undertow" when the tide pulled my feet out from under me, and I fell into the water.

"Are you okay?" asked England, pulling me up out of the water.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied dryly.

"No, really." He looked me in the eye. "Are you alright?"

"My head hurts a lot," I admitted. It was getting worse.

"That shouldn't happen," he said hesitantly. "Why don't we find you a place to lay down?"

"I just need to get out of the sun. I'll go sit in the restroom for a while." The cool, tile floor sounded really nice.

"Alright. I'll come and check on you in a few minutes."

I made my way back up to the restroom and closed the door behind me. I sat on the floor, leaned against the counter, and closed my eyes. My headache suddenly got worse, much worse. I opened my eyes, and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes again, and images swirled violently behind my eyelids. I clutched at my head and lay down on the floor. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a door open. The light burned into my brain. _Who the fuck would do that to me?_

"Siberia? Are you okay?" asked a scared voice. I opened my eyes and saw Lithuania. _He's always bothering me._

My vision went entirely red, and I couldn't make out any shapes. I felt the sensation of movement, but I didn't control it. I couldn't hear anything, but the rushing of my pulse. I wasn't thinking of anything; my mind was entirely blank, except for blood red.

When my vision finally cleared, I realized I was standing in front of the mirror. Well, what remained of the mirror. There were glass shards everywhere, but all I saw was the blood. It was on the glass, splattered across the long counter, and when I looked down, I saw that it was on my hands. When I looked down further, I saw Lithuania's crumpled body. The back of his head was bashed in, and his face was covered in blood. Still, he seemed to smile at me, as if to say "It's not your fault."

I screamed.

* * *

I'm sorry this has taken me so long, and I'm sorry for the suspense. There will be one more chapter after this. I had meant to publish them together, but I didn't want to make you guys wait even longer. Reviews are much appreciated, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me this far.


	20. In Which Siberia's Story Comes to an End

England was the first to run into the restroom to see what was going on. He looked at me sadly before kneeling next to Lithuania and beginning to heal him. More nations filed in and stared at me in shock. I could feel Poland's unforgiving glare and Norway's cold, knowing gaze. Someone grabbed me by my arm and pulled me out.

"He'll be fine, Siberia." It was Russia who guided me across the sunny parking lot to his car. "He's a nation; he can't die."

"Why is it always him?" I moaned quietly, my voice hoarse from screaming. Russia opened the passenger side door for me, and I sat down. Red still swirled violently in my mind, and I was vaguely aware of Lithuania's blood still on my hands.

"What happened, little sister? You were so close to succeeding." We were driving. I watched the scenery go by, feeling sobs caught in my chest.

"I…don't know," I said finally. "I blacked out, or something, and when I came to…" One sob escaped, then another. Hot tears fell out of my eyes. It was finally setting in, what had just happened. I had hurt my friend, again. "You were right. Everyone was right. I am a monster. And now I have to go."

Russia made a small sound. "You…don't have to go. You can stay at my house, and we can try again in another hundred years or so."

"No, we had a deal, and I lost. I have to go back. I don't belong here, and I only hurt people. I _need_ to go, brother."

He was silent for a long time before he finally nodded and said "Okay."

I hugged my knees to my chest and stared out the window as we drove. It was hard not to break down and cry more, but I knew I didn't deserve to cry. Crying would be a relief, and I had to force myself to feel all of the guilt. At least I would get my punishment soon.

"We are going on a plane, little sister. Will you be alright?" Russia's voice grabbed my attention, and I realized we were parked at an airport.

"Yes," I answered quietly, "I'll be alright." Ironically, I felt more in control than I ever had, even though I was still half-dazed. Stepping out of the car, I realized I was still in Belarus's bathing suit with no shoes, and my hands were still covered in Lithuania's blood.

When we got onto the jet, Russia took me to the small restroom and had me clean the blood off. Watching the red wash down the sink, I started to sob again.

"It wasn't your fault, Siberia," Russia said half-heartedly as we took our seats.

"Don't say that. It was entirely my fault. You tried to warn me, and I didn't listen. I let myself believe that I could be your equal. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong." I covered my face with my hands and bit my lip to hold back the tears. I tasted blood. Like Lithuania's blood that had coated his face.

The flight was excruciatingly slow. In total, it probably only took about two and a half hours, but it felt like six or seven. I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't enjoy the view. All I could do was sit there and feel my entire existence fall apart. I tried to imagine what it would be like to go back to my own world, but I knew I wouldn't make it. Even if I did, it wouldn't be Siberia's world.

When we finally landed, I was completely consumed by self-loathing and guilt. Being home didn't make me feel any better, despite the fact that I would be getting what I deserved soon. Russia silently pulled his car into the driveway and dragged his hand down his face. It was then that I noticed how distraught he was, but I couldn't find any words to make him feel better. I simply followed him into the house, keeping my head bowed. All my tears were gone.

"I need a drink," Russia finally said when we were inside. "Do you want something?" I shook my head, and he sighed heavily before heading into the kitchen. I followed and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Where do we…?" I started to ask, but I didn't know how to finish my sentence.

Russia set a full bottle of vodka and two glasses down on the table. He sat across from me, filled them both, and slid one to me.

"No, I don't want—"

"I'll send you back tomorrow. Let's just have this last night together." He sounded so sad that I decided not to push it further. I wanted to go as soon as possible, but I would be lying if I said I didn't want to drown everything together with my brother.

"You asked me once if I ever considered sending you back," Russia said after downing the first glass and refilling it. "When I told my boss what England had done, he ordered me to send you back. I had begun making the preparations when England told me that it would probably kill you. I was going to do it anyway, but you changed my mind."

"I did?" I took a sip from my cup. The alcohol burned all the way down.

"Yes, you were in a similar state to now. I felt immense pity for you and just wanted to put you out of your misery. You started talking to me once when I brought you something to eat. It was the first time I had heard you actually speak. Do you remember that?"

"I think I asked you who I was?"

"Yes, and I told you that you were the personification of Siberia. It was close enough." Russia shrugged before taking another drink.

"Then I think I asked who you were." I had to think hard to pull up the fuzzy memories. Mostly I just remembered being locked in a dark room during those days.

"Yes, you did. I told you that I was the personification of Russia and that Siberia was part of Russia.

'Does that make you my big brother?' you asked. I wondered where you had heard that from."

"Belarus, most likely."

"Probably. I told you that you could call me that if you wanted, and you asked if that made you my little sister. That's when I realized that I should be protecting you, not trying to get rid of you." He paused to empty his glass and refill it. "So I told my boss that it would be impossible to send you back."

"You lied to your boss?" I gawked at him, the alcohol making me forget, just a little, how awful I felt.

"Yes, I did. He told me that you were my responsibility, and I would have to make sure you never got out."

"And I made sure you broke that promise."

"We both made mistakes."

"You won't have to take responsibility once I'm gone, will you?"

"Most likely."

"You shouldn't."

"Yes, this is as much my fault as it is yours. Probably even more."

We drank in silence for a while. Before I knew it, the first bottle was empty and a second was half gone. I didn't feel as wretched anymore. In fact, I didn't feel much at all. It was nice to lay my head on the table and let myself sink into oblivion. I was vaguely aware of being lifted and then laid on a bed. My own bed. That was nice, too. I fell into a deep, deep sleep, and I had no dreams.

I awoke the next morning feeling nothing but determination and a headache. Today was the day. I had to go. It had to be done.

I found Russia in his office looking more exhausted than I had ever seen him. It was crazy to think that little over a week ago, he had woken up with a hangover. He nodded at me grimly, stood up, and beckoned me to follow him.

We walked out of his office and down the hallway to a door that I hadn't used in years. Behind it was a winding staircase leading into a dark basement. At the end of the stone hallway was a heavy wooden door that led to my old "workroom," and I shivered at the sight of it. But we didn't use that door. Instead, Russia opened the first wooden door on the left. It led to a sort of secondary office full of occultist books and objects. There was a space on the floor where a large circle had been drawn in white chalk. There were various symbols both inside and outside the circle. Russia indicated that I should step into the circle, and I obliged.

I took a moment to observe the room, as it would probably be the last thing I saw. The floor and walls were all made of old stone. Though Russia had rebuilt and remodeled his house several times over the years, this whole basement was probably still original. Books lined the walls, and a small wooden desk sat in the corner. There was one large, old tome open on top of the desk, and though I couldn't read what was on the pages, I knew they told how to send me back.

Finally, I observed Russia, my brother. My alternate self. He still wore the clothes from the day before, and I suspected he hadn't slept at all. There were dark bags underneath his eyes, and his mouth held a slight frown.

"I hope you'll get some rest after this is all over," I said quietly. He attempted to smile at me before wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Goodbye, Siberia, little sister," he whispered.

"Goodbye, Russia, big brother."

He released me and grabbed the tome. He began to chant in an ancient language that I barely recognized. As with other spells, the words seemed to come out of the page and wrap themselves around me. However, instead of being gently warmed by them, they burned. I winced, but the pain only got worse. They squeezed around me tightly, then I felt a strange tugging sensation from all directions. The tugging turned into pulling, which turned into ripping.

It felt like every bit of me was being shredded into tiny pieces. I wanted to scream, but I found I didn't have a voice to scream with. Nor did I have a tongue. I realized I couldn't see anything anymore. I couldn't feel anything other than the searing pain. Then I felt my own mind being ripped apart. _This is goodbye…_

_Finally, I'm back. _Suddenly, the ripping feeling turned into a horrible pressure, like all my bits were being squeezed back together. The pain turned back into burning, and I felt my knees buckle under me. Before I could register that I had knees again, I hit the ground.

I lay very still for a long time as the pain subsided. I opened my eyes and blinked the blurriness away. I saw a dark red carpet on the floor. My dark red carpet. I was in my house. I felt such joy well up inside of me that I started to giggle. I carefully rolled over, sat up, and looked around. Yes, this was definitely my house, which means I survived the journey back. I checked my mind. Only my voice in there. That artificial soul was finally gone. I had my body to myself again.

"Good to see you again," drawled a low voice above me. I looked up to see a hand offered to me. I refused it, carefully picking myself up on my own. The owner of the hand smirked down at me. He was a lot taller than me, and his silvery blond hair and trench coat registered in my memory. I smiled at him.

"Good to see you, too, Belarus."

"Welcome back, big sister."

* * *

**AN: We made it to the end, and 2p!fem!Russia is back! Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me. I am considering writing a sequel to this, but I have no real plot in mind. Unfortunately, Siberia is gone now, so she would not be in it. It would only be alternate Russia. Please let me know if you enjoyed Monster, and/or if you would be interested in a sequel. Thanks again!**


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